Push
by chichirichick
Summary: As Soul's father falls ill, Maka has to decide what kind of partner she's going to be. SoMa, fluff and angst
1. A Phone Call

I know, I know, yet another fic with so many unfinished. I hate myself, too. Strangely, this really sprung from the need to redeem Soul's parents since I see them so often portrayed as cold/mean/etc (I'm guilty of this obviously). Plus, I love writing SoMa right now.

* * *

Soul would laugh in my face if I said I never pushed and I'm trying to be truthful, but there are occasions, I guess. I'm more than willing to push myself past limits and have in the face of enemies that would have ripped us to shreds. I consistently push our team every day, preparing them and myself for what's to come after Asura. I push Soul to be a better partner and an indestructible weapon for Kid. But that all boils down to one segment of my life: I push myself at work. DWMA is my life and I spend my time only examining that part.

I could make excuses for this:

I'm too exhausted from life as a fighting machine to bother with anything else.

I'm too busy to put the time and effort into finding a passion outside of my drive to save the world.

I'm too overwhelmed with recovering from the Kishin, the madness, and all of the new problems in the backlash from that to find out what Maka Albarn is other than a scythe meister.

So I don't push when Soul and I are on the couch together and he casually throws an arm around my shoulder.

I don't push when I find myself watching him sleeping on the couch rather than concentrating on the words on the page.

And I especially don't push when he wakes me in the middle of the night, his soft cries in his deep sleep filtering clear across the hall. I only walk across the hall, my hand gently pressing to his chest and his face until he wakes with a start. I only climb into bed with him, letting him rest his head on my chest, his arm tight around my waist until his breathing slows. I only let him fall asleep listening to the beat of my heart as I do everything I can to soothe his soul with my own.

Of course, the nightmares hadn't gotten better but at least remain consistent, me waking up in his bed three or four mornings a week. I don't push. I let this be us. I try not to take the time to think about those moments, break them apart bit by bit and analyze them like my mind screams to do on a regular basis. There are wants and hopes and dreams haunting around in my mind and I try to make them not exist. I need to let this be us, but maybe I'm starting to hear the echoed question of _why?_ especially as I wake up with him clutched tightly to me again, his breath hot against my neck.

It was the phone's ring that tore me away from dreaming and I quickly moved to shake him awake since I knew the sound alone wouldn't be enough. "Soul?"

"What?" he grumbled but the phone answered his question before I could with another urgent chirp. He pulled himself away, hand lingering on my stomach as he sat up. "I'll get it." The morning usually brought slow movement for Soul, as if each sunrise came with a hangover, but this time he pushed through it, quickening his steps to get there before the ring cut off completely. "Hello?"

I mused for a second at his tone, the fact that whoever was on the other line was in for an attitude to call this early. I waited for the disgruntled mumbling or the outright snap of his barely awake voice but heard nothing but silence interrupted momentarily by the sound of his hand meeting the wall. It wasn't a punch, not enough to get me to stumble out of the bed, but as the next words came from his mouth I found myself ripping off the sheets. "No, Wes, I heard you… I…"

I was up and out of the bed, trying to force myself to move slowly and not instantly jump to the conclusion that he needed me. As I hit the doorway the sight in front of me stopped me in my tracks. His eyes were no longer anywhere near sleep-lined, just staring widely at the wall where his hand had connected to keep himself standing. His fingers were white from his grip on the receiver and his jaw was set so tight I could swear I heard the grind of his teeth. "Look, I'll try," he murmured. The sound of my feet on the floor didn't register for him and I got close enough to put a hand on his arm before he jumped back to life, his eyes darting from me to the phone.

From this distance, I could now hear the urgency in the other voice but not make out the words. Soul stayed immobile, once again letting everything but the sound in his ear fade away. The voice on the receiver droned on until Soul finally snapped, "I said I'll fucking try!"

My hand clenched around his arm just in time for him to slam down the phone. His skin was burning under mine, his heartbeat practically pounding through his entire body. "What is it?" I asked lamely.

"My dad's in the hospital." His eyes were still focused on the phone, showing too much white against the red of his irises.

I let my grip slide down his arm, stopping to cup his palm. "Is he going to be OK?"

"They don't know yet," a ragged breath punctuated that sentence. "Wes wants me to come home."

"You should," I shot back without hesitating.

"Maka, I can't just leave." He finally met my gaze, the panic started to tremble at his lips. "What about you? About Kid? This isn't just some nine-to-five I can take off from."

"And this isn't just some vacation you want to take. This is important. Kid will understand." _Especially since he lost his own, he'll understand it so well because it's all still so fresh for him. It won't be an argument it'll be an order to leave immediately._ As my mind raced through the logistics of Soul leaving I barely registered the thought before I said it, "And I'll go with you."

"What?" It was a breathless question from his lips.

"If you want me to," I corrected a little late. "I don't mind. I'll just… I'm your partner and if you need me then I want to."

From years of being with him, I'd learned all of the signs of an overwhelmed Soul, the way his face goes blank, the thousand-mile stare taking all his attention. I didn't let him sink into it, moving to wrap my arms around him, pulling his chest to mine. As he settled against me, his hands clenched into the fabric of my shirt, his voice squeaking out as if squeezed by the same pressure. "Maka, I can't…"

"You can." I let my hand smooth through his hair as if this was just another nightmare and he was clinging to me in bed. The strange euphoria of doing this outside of that scenario was only dampened by the fact that he needed this to begin with, that I could feel him crumbling apart in my hands. "I'll borrow Spirit's car and I'll tell Kid. All you have to do is get ready, Soul, pack some things." And I knew I felt the change then, no matter how small and no matter how much I tried to ignore it.

* * *

Soul had spent the entirety of the drive staring out the window in silence. I didn't push, didn't make him talk or tell me what was on his mind even though I could probably guess. I only got the nerve to reach over to him and take his hand when we were only a few minutes away. When we touched I could feel some of the rough edges melting away, allowing me to send out my wavelengths lapping like waves on a shore. I could finally hear him breathe again.

That dissolved upon entering the hospital. As soon as the antiseptic smell hit I could feel him bristle, his hand going clammy in mine. I refused to let go, making him stop at the desk rather than pulling me through corridors like he knew where he was going. The length of the hallways made eternities and I struggled to keep him level as well as myself. Hospitals were never really my forte, better waking up in one of their beds than exploring the intricacies of dealing with the delicate situations in them.

I recognized Wes as soon as I saw him, practically the perfect picture of Soul aged by ten years, his eyes only softened to mahogany rather than the brilliant red of his brother. The woman to his left was staring off, her hands folded carefully in her lap. Her hair was a golden honey blond, much like mine, and her tear blurred eyes were the same as Wes, leaving me only to believe it must be his mother. It wasn't until we approached that I knew for sure because as soon as she raised her head, her eyes meeting Soul's, she was out of her seat and rushing towards him, throwing her arms around his shoulders to press him tightly to her.

I tried to take back my hand but he refused to budge his grip, letting only one arm rest on his mother's back. "Mom," his murmur was strained.

There was only the sound of her soft sobs, her face pressed into his t-shirt as he half held her while still clinging to me. I didn't know what else to be other than an extension of his hand since I was a stranger to the rest of them. Wes's eyes met mine and I fumbled with the words until he thankfully saved me from myself, "You must be Maka." He moved to the other side, coolly noticing our intertwined hands before reached out his hand to me.

"And you're Wes." Luckily my free hand was the right one and I was able to shake. "I'm glad I could finally meet you, though I'm sorry about the circumstances."

"Agreed," Wes sighed. He let his hand drift away as he moved them to his mother's shoulders, prying her away from Soul. "Mom, it's alright."

Soul had been in an innumerable amount of battles and for the most part shock and fear weren't part of his visual repertoire, so the look on his face struck me as alien, a trembling in his features I'd never witnessed before. All of that was gone in an instant, recovered with the removal of his mother's touch. His eyes wandered to his brother, the gaze now just as cool as always. "What did the doctor say, Wes?"

Wes opted for a gentle hand to his brother's shoulder rather than a full embrace. "He's out of the woods, but the recovery will be long, hard. A stroke takes some of your mobility, maybe even his ability to speak. The extent they're not completely sure of yet, but they're hopeful."

Soul looked from his brother's hand to me, a soft, wordless pleading there. I wished I could read his mind, translate the need he had but all I did was squeeze his hand in hopes of making him understand my own thoughts. "I want to see him," Soul murmured.

"We're waiting on that ourselves," Wes shrugged. "The nurse said once they've moved him they'll come to retrieve us."

"Alright." He mirrored his mother, that blank slackness taking over his entire body.

I stepped closer to him, careful not to disturb his tight hold on my hand. "Let's sit." Wes was the first to listen to my offer, moving their mother back to the position we first found her in.

After a moment's hesitation, Soul followed, wavering a little as the seating arrangement left him next to her but taking it anyway. Her hand fell to his leg as soon as he sat and I watched as his fingers hesitantly wrapped around hers. "Mom…?"

His voice melted away some of the haze and with a few blinks of her deep brown eyes, she turned to him, the smallest of smiles pulling at her mouth. "Yes, darling?"

He cleared his throat, "This is Maka." The anxiety flared as her eyes fell to me as if this was how I wanted to meet his parents along with a little bit of anger at the thought that Soul would find this the right time to squeeze me in.

"Oh, yes," that soft smile grew minutely. "Wes has told us that you're his partner. I'm glad that Soul has someone…" The way her mouth gaped left me believing there was more there but the words she did manage were enough to start the gears turning in my head.

I tried to stop the revolutions, especially as Soul remained quiet, not interrupting, not clarifying any of those open words she'd left. "Mrs. Evans, if there's anything I can do…"

"Bringing Soul here was more than enough," she replied. "And, please, call me Regina."

"I didn't-" My soft whisper was cut off by Soul squeezing my hand, the message there clearly that I was about to lie. I did, I forced him here, my first real push. "Alright, Regina."

Regina's gaze fell away from me, her eyes returning to her lap as she brought her hands along with one of Wes's and one of Soul's back there. Our silence was filled with the bustle of the hospital, the calls over the loudspeaker, the squeaks of sneakers, and the plodding of hurried footsteps.

My mind was far from quiet. _I am his partner, he __**has **__me. _The selfishness of it all was shameful and I wanted to stop to take a moment to hate myself for it but there was nowhere else my brain wanted to go. Of course, I wanted to be part of his strength, to keep him stable through this, but that wasn't all of it. It was all painfully and reprehensibly clear: I wanted him to see how much I loved him.

* * *

We'd spent hours at the hospital and when we did see Arthur Evans, Artie as Regina had so sweetly whispered when she took his hand in a picture-perfect moment that my heart melted as if subjected to a Hallmark movie, it was only for a few minutes before being pushed out the door. Regina was obviously allowed to stay, but the boys and I were left to pace around the waiting room. After a half-hour of Wes running a ditch in the floor and Soul clamping my hand as tightly as I ever thought humanly possible, Regina reappeared, less tearful but mostly still exuding exhaustion.

"Go home," she ordered as if suddenly a different woman. The soft-spoken, vacantness gone and replaced with what I would categorize as the pinnacle of mom-voice.

"But, Mom," Soul was ready with the stereotypical child response.

Regina silenced him with a soft hand to his cheek, a move that clearly surprised him. "Really, please, go home. Get some rest."

Soul took the hand slowly, pulling it from his face. "What about you?"

"I'm going to stay with your father but perhaps both of you will come by lunchtime tomorrow?" Regina turned her eyes to Wes. "And I mean lunchtime. You'll both sleep in and take your time getting here. There's no rush. Your father will be fine."

I didn't know how much of any of that was the truth but there was something about her that left you completely convinced. Assertive felt too weak of a word to use to describe her. I didn't exactly think that was the word Soul would like to use as I saw the frown grace his features, his brow furrowing in the way it always did when he was prepping for an argument. "Mom-"

Without even acknowledging the word coming from his mouth Regina turned her head to me and let her words rush over his. "Maka, you'll stay, won't you? It's terribly rude to ask but there's more than enough room and Soul can show you the ins and outs of the house."

"I'm staying as long as Soul stays." I risked glancing at him, seeing his jaw tighten with some indecipherable message, before looking back at Regina.

Regina had moved on to staring at Soul, her lips pressed together just as tightly as his, another glimpse of the likeness between the two of them. "And you'll stay how long?" This was a little softer, less assured with a tremble at the end of the question.

It was loud enough that all of us could probably hear his teeth grind before he sighed, "I can't take a lot of time off, Mom."

Something in me screamed it wasn't my place but the words tumbled from my lips anyway, "But we can at least stay until your father's out of the hospital."

"Maka…" He trailed off with another sigh. "Maka's right. Fine. We'll stay."

Regina was talented at hiding her delight and I only saw a moment of sparkle at the corner of her eyes. "The guest room-"

"It's not a big deal, we'll take my old room," he muttered.

"Oh." Regina didn't dare glance at me again but now suddenly let her eyes fall to our constantly connected hands before smiling back in her son's face. "Whatever you want, Soul."

"Just… get some sleep, too, OK?" For the first time since we arrived, Soul released my hands so he could wrap both of his arms around his mother. It was by no means a natural-looking hug, his hands still stiff with no idea where to go but the way Regina sighed, the contentment was enough to tell me it was probably one of the best she'd ever received from him.

* * *

Even though Soul had called it his room, it was oddly devoid of soul and Soul - the walls bare, the desk unadorned and lacking piles of every piece of paper he'd accumulated over the past month, the bed tightly tucked with sheets so white that they were just asking to be stained. We sat back to back, having left Wes downstairs in the kitchen claiming no appetite for the two of us. My body really just yearned to be undressed and in bed but my mind was frantically analyzing the single bed, the single room even if this was usual for missions.

He cleared his throat and I braced myself to hear about his take on sleeping together like this as if it was something new and terrifying. "You must think I'm an asshole."

The words caught me completely off guard and I had to blink into the darkness until my mind could translate them. I turned around on the bed slowly to stare at his back. "Why would I think that?"

"The stuff with my mom, my dad." His shoulders shrugged but he still refused to turn around.

Maybe it was the late night, the long drive, the exhausting day but my mind couldn't process this line of conversation. "What about it makes you an asshole?"

He sighed, probably fighting with his usual eloquence. "I'm an asshole for not wanting to be here."

"No," I answered tentatively, waiting for him to go on. When he gave me nothing but silence I reached out, touching the back of his shirt gently. "You never really told me why you left here, so I can't assume you're an asshole for not wanting to be here."

Instead of turning he leaned back into my hand, letting my fingers dig into his skin. "I'm not sure it's a good enough reason."

I flexed my fingers and he leaned into them more, halfway to stealing a massage from me. "You were fourteen when you left. No one has good reasons as fourteen."

Soul grunted a laugh, "Guess not."

"Don't get mad…" I murmured.

He gave me that knowing sigh, the one that easily translated to _I'll forgive you this one time_ even though the times had been innumerable.

I gave one more kneading of my hand before using it to slide to his shoulder in order to finally force him to turn to look at me. "Maybe you don't think so, but they love you."

Soul's bitter smile never looked any good on his face and this wasn't an exception. His hand came up and clasped over mine, bringing it from his shoulder to the bed. We both breathed into the silence, hands pressed together on top of the comforter. "Look, I'm going to go downstairs, talk to Wes for a little. You should… just try to get some sleep, OK?"

I squeezed his hand, trying to formulate something more useful than just an OK and finding nothing much better. "Is it OK if I take the right side?"

"You always do." Suddenly that weak smile was gone, replaced by that playful grin I knew too well. Sometimes he was so handsome he left me breathless and that grin was usual the star of those moments.


	2. Shame

I stared at the clock until midnight before I slipped on my sweater and slowly paced around the room, looking for some sign of his life. Snooping wasn't in my usual repertoire, but it felt like I was edging closer to finding out some of the missing pieces about him. There wasn't a thing, the room just as devoid as I had originally seen and I couldn't stop the urge to continue, to drift through the house in search of more.

I tried to keep my footsteps quiet as I eased down the stairs. Their voices were loud enough that I could follow the tone but not the words towards the kitchen. Wes did the majority of the talking, Soul's steady voice coming in only at short bursts. The light was leaking into the dark hallway from the kitchen, their voices finally clarified down to the word in this closeness, but I paused at the edge of the light, pressing my back to the wall.

Of course, there was a lull as if to point out the idiocy of my snooping and I was ready to take another step when Wes cleared his throat. "Maka's very nice."

"She is," Soul's answer was slow.

There was another pause and I knew I should walk in, stop whatever this conversation was because I didn't deserve these answers and Soul was probably hating every moment.

"Are you two…?"

This answer came much quicker, "It's complicated."

The heat blossomed in my chest, burning a line to my cheeks and I wished that I could see the same on his own face.

"Mom's going to think-"

"Let her."

That was enough, especially in the face of this absurdly growing hope that I was nurturing. It was the normalcy of this versus demons, witches, and all other types of madness, that was twisting my feelings into knots and if he said one more thing about it I might burst and never be able to go back. As quietly as possible I pushed myself back down the hall and to the stairs, my heart pounding harder with each step. _Complicated_, a few rushed beats and then, _let her_, echoing on repeat in my head. Even when I made it back to the bed, the sounds wouldn't drown out and I found myself pressing my face into the pillow, counting the beats of my heart.

I counted forever until I felt the bed move. When I turned to look at him, Soul's eyes were focused on the ceiling, either not realizing I was still awake or not necessarily caring about that fact. The clock blinked something in the 2 AM range and the smell of beer was strong on his breath. I let my fingers crawl through the sheets until they brought my hand to his chest, feeling his sharp intake of breath as soon as our skin met. "Go back to sleep," he rasped.

"I wasn't sleeping."

"Sorry," he brought his free hand over his eyes, forcing them to close. "Should have known."

"Creature of habit," I laughed softly. Sleep rarely came to me in these strange places, missions or otherwise, but having him next to me was enough to at least bring on a little drowsiness. "Were you out with Wes?" It felt like a lie, asking a question I already knew the answer to.

He let his hand slip from his eyes, bringing it to rest over mine. "Just downstairs. Wouldn't leave you alone here."

"But you'll drink without me," I smirked.

That managed to elicit the ghost of a smile. "You hate beer."

"Still would have been more fun than laying in bed." I tapped my fingers on his chest, his hand moving to my wrist to allow for my nervous motion. "Do you want to talk about it?"

The pillow rustled as he turned his head, eyes still boring into me in the low light. "About what?"

There was a selfish flash across my mind, a delusional moment where my mouth formed the words _about us_. It passed and I murmured, "About your dad."

"He'll be fine or he won't," Soul offered stiffly.

I sighed, trying to stop my eyebrows from furrowing as the late-night frustration caught up with me. "It's hard, worrying about your parents' mortality." I paused to wait for his attack, or maybe even for him to turn his back and attempt to pretend to sleep, but instead, he blinked at me in the dark while his hand flexed a little tighter on my wrist. "I can't say I get it because it's been different for me. I knew Spirit could die since I was little. He doesn't exactly live a life where dying at the ripe old age of one hundred in his sleep is possible."

"I've been used to that way of thinking for a while, so when he's in danger or when he's hurt, I think I'm numb to it a little." I took a long breath, trying to push away the next emotion before I could feel it, just have it be words instead of the pain that it was. "But the first time I felt it, maybe I was five or six and it was gut-wrenching. Even though he wasn't dead, just knowing that he could be, that I might never be able to see him again was like all the air had been taken out of the room and I was suffocating."

Soul's eyes moved back to the ceiling, his breath coming out in a short cough. "Does it get easier?"

"Maybe." I hated having to be honest since everything in me screamed to soothe. "Like I said, I've gotten more numb to it but I'm not sure if that's me or if that's how the world works." I stopped the nervous tapping on my fingers to grasp at his shirt, trying to send a message to the skin beneath it. "But you're not alone. That makes it easier."

"Yeah," but the discomfort still reigned on his face. "Maka… thank you, you didn't have to but I wouldn't be able to… I need you here."

The heat rose on my cheeks and I was happy for the darkness, hoping it would hide away the change in color there. "Don't be stupid," it was close to a stutter. "Of course I'm here and you don't have to thank me, it's… we're partners." I tried to catch my breath, gulping at the air like while I was grasping for words that didn't seem to work. "But, I mean, in this kind of stuff, too. Not just fighting but…"

I could have sworn I heard a laugh, one of those just barely grunts of amusement, as he turned in the bed. I was frozen in place, my lips the only thing moving with a tremble as the words trailed away. Soul was easing into his usual spot, his cheek pressed against my collarbone as his arm slid around my waist. This was post-nightmare territory but he was wide awake, that drifting hint of malt on his breath as it warmed my chest.

Even as my soul reached for his I found the worry barely drifting there, just the residual anxiety that was a fraction of what had been lingering around Soul all day. Instead, I couldn't ignore what I was finding there, his feelings that were calling to me. I let myself think it, just for a moment, _Soul is content in my arms._

* * *

The next morning I awoke by myself, a sensation that was starting to feel stranger than waking up next to him. He hadn't traveled far, just sitting on the edge of the bed, hands pressed into the sheets. "Soul?"

His eyes darted hesitantly over his shoulder at me before settling forward. "I'm sorry about last night."

The thought crossed my mind that I must still be sleeping because nothing from last night seemed to warrant an apology. "Last night?"

"I was drunk and I… you only do that with the nightmares and I didn't mean to make you…" There was a distinctive trembling in his voice and the terrifying thought he was crying crossed my mind.

"You didn't make me," I murmured, sitting up so I could reach for him, my fingers closing on his bicep. "Nothing happened last night that I didn't want." The heat rose on my cheeks as he slowly allowed himself to turn and look at me.

His eyes were wider than usual, his jaw working for a moment before his lips opened. "Maka, do you-"

The knock at the door abruptly cut his words.

It wasn't necessary but almost out of habit I pulled the sheet to my chest. "Come in."

The door creaked open and Wes just barely stuck his head in, his eyes tried not to trail the bed and settled quickly on Soul. "Sorry to interrupt."

"It's fine," Soul stood and walked towards the door, obscuring Wes's view of me entirely and pushing the conversation almost out of the room. "What's wrong?"

"I was planning on leaving in an hour if you're interested."

"I'll be ready." There was a rustle and then Soul reappeared, closing the door behind him. He looked bewildered, his hands hanging limply at his sides.

I let the sheet fall from my clenched fingers. "Everything alright?"

"He hugged me," Soul murmured.

A laugh wanted to escape my mouth but I clamped it behind my teeth. With how much touching we'd done over the past week it was a strange memory to have to bring back the usual for Soul: holding was off-limits. "I mean with your dad."

"Oh." He moved to wrap his arms around himself. "I'm going to go over with Wes in an hour."

"I'll get ready, then." I started to get up from the bed, running my fingers through my hair before twisting it up in a messy bun. As I walked to the end of the bed he met me, his hand reaching out to hesitantly grab the fabric of my nightshirt. I paused, eyes focused on those tightly gripped fingers.

"You don't have to."

"I want to," came effortlessly because it wasn't even close to a lie.

He pulled at me, bringing my eyes up to his as the space between us disappeared. His eyes searched my face and for a breathless moment, I was sure this was it, the moment those teenage daydreams would be fulfilled with his lips pressed against mine. Instead, he got me close enough to wrap his arms around my shoulders, pressing my face against his shirt. This wasn't the same awkward hug he'd attempted with his mother as his fingers gripped into me as if trying to leech all the good feelings from my skin. "I'm sorry," his voice was a soft whisper against my ear.

"Again, I don't know why," I breathed back. I tried to focus on the fabric of his shirt, the intertwining threads rather than the euphoria that was starting to build in my chest. This wasn't the time or the place for that but I couldn't keep those emotions in check, the joy of the closeness swallowing me whole.

He left his fingers to answer, releasing the fabric of my shirt and gently gliding along my back, a slow shaky movement. I tried never to read him unless the explicit purpose was to soothe but I knew I was prying, trying to find the words he didn't want to say. For a moment, I thought I'd misread, that it was what I was feeling in reaction to searching since all I could find was shame. Without alcohol, without the night, he was ashamed to touch me.

That broke the spell, my hands coming to his chest to push him away from me as I tried to erase what I'd found from my mind. "I should get ready."

His hands were hovering uselessly at my sides and his fists started to clench as they fell back to him. "You should."

As I brushed past him I swore I could feel his hand still grasping for my shirt.

* * *

Regina was already outside the hospital, holding herself at the elbows as she watched the three of us come closer. The bags under her eyes were outshone by her smile, something I hadn't been able to see much of the day before. It was brilliant, overwhelmingly charming, and I wondered at how stunning she must have been as a girl. She embraced both of her sons in succession, Soul's hold continuing to improve with practice, and surprised me to no end by finishing with me. It shook me, not just because of the way she exuded the unexpected scent of lilac or because it'd been probably close to five years since that kind of maternal embrace was really mine to have, but more so because of the paralyzing wave of her emotions.

Sometimes, when a person is close to their breaking point, overcome to the point where their own mind can barely regulate themselves, it becomes almost completely unnecessary for my soul perception at all. I wondered if Soul had felt it since he wasn't necessarily attuned but usually at least had some of the residuals of my talent. It was there, the screaming hollowness to her smile, something I'd thought so beautiful now exposed as being barely better than gray.

When she released me I was breathless, desperately in want of his hand but finding myself unable to grab for him, the realization that he'd actively avoided my touch since this morning freezing me in place.

"You should all go in, visit for a while." Regina's hands came back to her elbows, smoothing along the fabric of her sleeves.

Wes planted a soft hand on her shoulder, "What about you?"

Regina shook her head as she replied, "Feeling a little stir crazy. I thought I'd stay outside for a bit, get some fresh air before going back."

"Alright." Wes leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before sending a look back to Soul. It was a domino effect, Soul's eyes then turned to me as if I were the final say.

"You two go ahead, I think I'll stay with Regina for a bit." His jaw worked before he turned his head back to his brother, obviously chewing on words. I turned my eyes to Regina, trying on a smile that wasn't half as bright as hers, "That is if you don't mind."

"I'd appreciate the company."

I didn't wait for any more niceties or glances from Soul before I turned, taking Regina by the arm and starting towards the brightest patch of sunshine that wasn't covered by concrete. It felt cowardly, running away from him like that, leaving him after I'd offered my support but regardless of what Soul was feeling I felt worse brewing in Regina. Even sustaining a touch now meant that I could hear the hum of Regina's woe, clearly laced with guilt. I was lost in it as they walked onto the grass, Regina pulling the two of us towards a series of benches.

There were a few other families, obviously taking breaks from the suffocating institution across the street. Regina brought us to an empty bench, sitting first and waiting with her hands in her laps until I sat down. "I'm afraid being alone leaves me liable to pry."

I pressed a hand to her lips to smother a laugh, pleased by the easy honesty. "Well, I'll tell you what I can, Regina."

She hugged at her elbows again, taking in a deep breath. "At the very least, could you tell me how he is? I don't think I've gotten a full answer to that question in almost ten years."

The question was beyond vague, a million possibilities for answers that no wonder Regina had never received a full one, but with Soul's usual complete lack of verbosity I couldn't imagine Regina even getting the beginning of an answer. Also, ten years meant that she hadn't gotten an answer since before Soul left, alienated before Soul even became the person I knew today. "He does alright at school, after a little prodding, that is, not really one for studying and loves to get sidetracked by a movie or his music."

"At least some things don't change," Regina smiled. "Is he still playing?"

"Well," I sighed, trying to think of the most mundane way to describe it, "The real piano not so much but with our work, he's used a lot music in a way."

Regina's sigh mimicked my own, her eyes darting along the other families moving around us. "I suppose I pushed him to play, that's why he doesn't keep up with it."

"No, it's not that," I let my hand tentatively touch her elbow. "He just doesn't have as much time as he used to. He's had to put in a lot of training, a lot of missions since he, well, I guess you could say he got a promotion." _To Death's Last Weapon_, though how to explain that in layman's terms escaped me.

"A promotion? You mean he's… doing well at work?" I could feel the warmth started to peel off her skin, the unabashed excitement at the prospect that Soul might be successful.

For a short second, I was jealous. I wondered if my mother ever reacted this way if Spirit ever told her things, or if she would if I had more than a five-minute phone call with her. "He's worked very hard and his skills are definitely brag-worthy." Death forbid he hear me say that or else I might never live it down.

Regina paused as if to let all the information settle, to calculate what next she could get out of the conversation. Her smile wavered a little before the next question left her lips, "And you, you work together?"

"He's been my partner just about since he came to school, yes." _It's complicated_ shot into my head again and I willed it away too late, a blush starting to rise on my cheeks.

It was simple to tell that Regina had seen it, knew what I was saying without saying and the knowing smile that formed on her lips tortured me. "You seem like a good fit for him."

"I," came out as nothing more than a stammer, a hand coming to my cheek to try to hide anything else I was about to give away. Oh, Death, how I wanted to run in any direction, that was until I felt the shift beneath my fingers, the lull in her happiness.

"It's my fault, the way he is," she murmured.

All I could do was gape, feeling the guilt from before oozing from her.

Regina sighed and leaned back on the bench, her eyes moving away from me to trail back to the hospital. "We'd had Wes and by the time Soul came, I already felt like I was done raising children. Artie tried, but he was incredibly busy, and I remained mostly selfish. I treated him like he was grown as if the attention that he needed was simply intellectual, anything but the warm adoration a boy like him required." Her hand came to her chest, pressing into her sternum as if to stop a bleed from her heart.

"When his talent came out, I wanted nothing more than to help him forget it rather than embrace it, insisting that he could be normal," the last word came out of her mouth like bile as the self-hatred came off of her in waves. "He tried to tell me that it was something special but I refused to see it. It wasn't until he left that I realized my boy needed me to embrace it with him. When he got old enough to figure out he needed that school of yours, it was too late."

"Regina…" What else do you say? How do you comfort a mother convinced she'd ruined her own child, especially when you knew that child was far from alright with their relationship. "Soul hasn't, he's never…"

"Told you? I'm surprised." Regina's hand reached over to mine after unclenching it from the bench. "There's something about you that helps to loosen the tongue."

I didn't mean for it, but a scoff was all I could offer in reaction. There was nothing about me that elicited that from him and over the past few days I had been guilty of simply stealing the information.

"And I have a penchant for sticking my nose where it doesn't belong. I'm sure Soul will tell you about that." Her fingers squeezed around mine. "And I'm sure this trip on its own has been burdensome without adding a mother's regrets."

I studied her for a moment, trying to decipher the rest of the feelings she was sending through our connected hands. I had always known Soul carried wounds with him, but I never imagined it, at least to outside eyes, seemed fixable. "Have you told him?"

"Since this is the first time he's been home, no," she sighed. "It doesn't strike me as appropriate phone conversation and even then he's liable to hang up on me as soon as the pleasantries are through."

_This isn't your business anymore. You're falling into dangerous territory if you're planning on interfering._

All of that screamed continuously in my mind until Soul's voice interrupted behind them. "Mom?" Both of us turned to look at him, his face tight and drained of its color. "The doctor was looking for you, Mom."

"Oh," Regina's hand trembled in mine before she released it. She was slow to stand but as soon as she got her momentum her walk was brisk, gliding past her son with a soft touch to his shoulder.

Without even a thought to censor myself, I found myself giving a solid order, "Go with her."

I wondered at what my face must have looked like because he offered not even an ounce of argument, just a lift of his eyebrows in surprise before turning on his heels, jogging to catch up. I contemplated running myself, being the third in that partnership, continuing to try to bridge a gap but my shame caught up with me again, plastering me to the bench. I'd promised no reading him, but reading his mother was just as bad, wasn't it? I knew too much of what he didn't want to tell me anyway. And who was I to force him? Who was I to push?


	3. Taking Care

How much time passed wasn't even on my mind, instead overly focused on my cycling thoughts.

Soul broke me from it with a soft touch to my shoulder. "Got you something," he murmured as he replaced his touch with the cup.

I hesitantly flexed my fingers around the cardboard, feeling the warmth seep through. "Thank you." He walked around the bench, taking the seat his mother had left, instantly sending me back to thoughts of her. "You should be with your mother."

Soul's eyes narrowed at me for a second, studying my face through my orders. "Wes is with her right now. She seems fine."

"She's not," the shame choked me again and I turned my eyes to the liquid in the cup. "I… I didn't mean to but I read her and she's… Soul, there's so much going on for her between your father and you that she's barely hanging on."

I expected some kind of immediate shot back but all I heard was a sigh, the creak of the bench as he leaned into it. "But you talked to her, too. She said you two had a conversation."

This felt like a derail in the conversation and I breathed a sigh of relief into my tea. "She asked me how you were and I tried to answer as best I could."

"It was more than that," he murmured.

"It wasn't like I was trying to pry," I snapped.

"Awful defensive for someone who's not." His voice was strangely unchanged, not challenging or amping up to something that could be a fight.

My backbone withered in the face of it, my eyes coming back to his. "I'm sorry."

He sighed again, a weak smile coming to his face. "That perception of yours, it's good for work, but I think you've forgotten that you're good with words, too."

"I-" But he shook his head, muting me immediately.

"When we were younger you used to ask me questions all the time." A small laugh broke through his lips. "Not that I always answered, but you've slowed that down to a stop. I know you read me sometimes…" He paused as I knew the guilt colored my cheeks. "You try not to, and I appreciate that, but I'd rather you ask for answers."

My lips pressed together tightly for a moment and I felt myself proving him right, holding onto questions that I wanted to be answered. "While we're here are you going to try to figure things out with your mom?"

"I asked for it, didn't I," he grumbled to himself as his hand smoothed through his hair. "Gut reaction is I don't want to. Easier to just live the way I've been living since I've made it work for six years." He sighed as his eyes moved away, focusing off at some spot as if the answer was out there. "I'm not heartless, though. I know she's hurting and I don't want that for her but… I'm scared, I guess."

"Scared of what?" I moved the cup to my other hand, allowing the newly freed on to grasp his hand from his lap. Instead of pulling the information in, I found myself just trying to push my soothing feelings out.

His fingers thankfully clenched at mine instead of refusing me. "Change, I guess. Maybe… scared of being honest about what's in my heart." His sigh was filled with disappointment as if those last words were idiotic rather than intriguingly cryptic.

"Soul, just letting her back in isn't the end of the world," it was a weak murmur because I knew it was an ineffectual comfort even before it left my mouth.

"No, but it's going to hurt." There was this anxious pitch to his voice, straining with each word. "I push, Maka, that's what I do. If I have to admit that I don't have to push people away anymore then… I'm not sure I can handle everything that comes with that." With that his teeth clenched closed, that hard set of his jaw telling me he'd had enough, that his word capacity for the day had been reached.

I filled the silence with sips of tea from my cup, blowing in between to cool it down. It was halfway done before I held it back to him, pleased as he didn't break our hands for it but used his free one. He took a sip and I watched him wince at the bitterness, a man that liked his tea soft and mellow like his music. I watched him grimace through the rest of the cup, wondering if I was part of those people he pushed, kept out of the inner circle of Soul. "Soul…" I barely had the nerve to say his name.

"Yeah?" Regardless of me watching him, he'd hadn't looked my way until that moment, that passive, dull look on his face that hid whatever tumultuous feelings he had underneath.

For a second I was sure I was going to scream, not actually words but some unintelligible groan of frustration and fear. I swallowed that feeling, trying to concentrate on the connection of our hands, again trying to send out some emotional morse code. "Whatever happens… please, just, don't push me away."

His jaw clenched, killing my dream of some immediate answer, but his hand gripped mine tighter, a shaky breath escaping through his teeth. "Maka, I try, but I do sometimes."

I couldn't even murmur the _I know_ that sat on my lips. I couldn't beg, cry, ask for that again. It took all I had to say it that time and all I got was painful honesty, the real truth that there was a bridge between us and we were both to blame.

* * *

I woke up the next morning without Soul there. Not sitting at the end of the bed, not clutching to me beneath the sheets, not lingering around the room but completely disappeared. He hadn't even come close to me last night, purposefully staying on his side of the bed as if to add punctuation to the day's conversation. I forced the little part of me that wanted to press my face into the pillow and cry aside and got ready for the day, simply hoping I'd see his face over a cup of coffee at the breakfast table.

My excitement rose but then instantly muted as I realized it was Wes at the table, not Soul. "Good morning," he chirped.

"Good morning," I echoed hesitantly.

"Coffee's ready if you'd like." He thankfully pointed for me to narrow down the location of the pot in the expanse of the kitchen, seeing mugs arranged neatly next to it as if he preempted my next question.

I smiled softly in his direction, "Thank you." I felt his eyes follow me as I walked the rest of the way into the kitchen to the pot.

"Soul left early this morning."

He paused and I couldn't help but bristle, clutching tightly at the mug that was now in my hand.

"He said he wanted to hang out with Mom on his own," he sounded pleasantly surprised at his own statement. There was a pause, enough for me to pour my coffee and I assumed he was edited his conversation with Soul in his head, "He said you should relax today."

_Relax?_ part of me shrieked. I felt overwhelmed with all the possibilities of how I couldn't possibly ever be relaxed when it finally occurred to me I'd been standing there silently with my grip on the coffee cup turning my fingers white. "I'm so sorry, Wes," I murmured as I turned a shaky smile back at him. "I don't mean to be rude but I might just… go back to bed."

"Not rude at all," he offered back a much better-looking smile than the one I was holding on to. "Though, I'd appreciate it if you were available for lunch. I can promise my cooking won't disappoint."

"Sounds nice." I contemplated the coffee in my hand for a second before settling on taking it up to the room. I threw a pathetic wave in his direction before starting back up the stairs, watching as the liquid swirled around the rim of the cup. The ripples from the steps gave me pause to think, finally setting aside my own hasty emotions and isolating what I really should have heard. Soul was with his mother, by himself, and chose to do so.

I let that thought settle into my mind as I set the coffee cup on the bedside table and threw myself back into the collection of pillows. Without thinking I rolled closer to his side of the bed, my face pressing into his pillow. He always had this light fragrance of mint from his shampoo and I found myself searching for it there, letting it soothe me as I tried to pretend we were still lying close together. The make-believe was so convincing that I awoke much later, my head still buried in his pillow, the ghost of his arm around my waist.

The room was still empty and I was still alone but my coffee had cooled with the three extra hours I'd spent in bed. This was a miracle to mark on the calendar for sure: Maka Albarn sleeps until 11 AM. I let a little laugh tumble from my lips before I tried for a second time to get ready for the day. Dejavu hit me as I found myself walking back down the stairs, coming upon Wes in the kitchen just as I'd left him. "Hello, again." I had prepared an actual smile this time, no spacing with worry about whether or not Soul would be there.

Wes set down the newspaper he'd been perusing, something close to a Soul smile on his lips. "Ah, feeling better?"

"Much better, thank you." I made my way slowly to the table, noticing the different papers and magazines strewn across the top.

"Soul did say you sleep terribly away from home," the sentence came so matter-of-factly from him that my jaw almost dropped.

With the shock came the inability to edit myself, "He said that?"

"Yes, hence you needing to relax today." Wes motioned towards the seat next to him, starting to clear some of the mess out of the way. "And hence why we're going to have a very fancy lunch."

I sat, trying to help in the arrangement of the table but getting my hands shooed away in the process. "Oh, you don't have to-"

"Please, the only thing I enjoy more than playing is cooking," Wes smiled pleasantly. "I'm going to hope you're not allergic to anything."

"No." I watched him as he stood from the table and began rummaging around the kitchen, spreading produce across the counter from the fridge and then moving on to the clang of pots and pans. Water was set to boil, the oven turned on, and the constant sound of chopping began. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

The chopping paused and Wes chuckled to himself. "Open the wine. The corkscrew is in the third drawer there." I followed the directions to extract the corkscrew and stared at the few bottles standing out on the kitchen counter. "Côtes du Rhône," he finally specified to save me from too many options. "The glasses are in the first cabinet there."

"It's a little early, isn't it?" I tried out a carefree, jovial laugh but there was a distinct edge of nervousness too it.

"Cooking is hard work, rewards are due." Wes continued his chuckling as he began to toss halved cherry tomatoes in some olive oil before turning back to chop the shallots. "And keeping the cook company is its own job."

I considered not rewarding myself since what was I doing but being a nosy stranger here, but without Soul, it felt like I needed something to take the edge off. The glasses were top to bottom in the cabinet and I was sure there were probably particular glasses for each wine presented in this household. My sophistication stopped at red wine went in the fat, not tall glasses so I picked out two stocky glasses and brought them back to the wine. Surprisingly, I was able to pour without spilling a drop, a blessing to my nervousness and brought one of the glasses to Wes, waiting as he put a tray of shallots and tomatoes into the oven.

He wiped his hand on a rag before taking the glass from me, "Thank you. Also, vegetarian?" I shook my head before turning back to the wine, hearing him fall right back into chopping. Instead of moving back to the table I hovered at the island, twirling the wine in my glass without taking the first sip. "So, I know Mom asked about Soul, so I got that second hand, but apparently none of us know anything about you."

"I'm not-" _that important_, I finished in my head, _or all that interesting_. "There's not all that much to know, but feel free to ask." That statement felt dangerous and called for a sip of the wine to wash back the fear in saying it. It was dry but made my mouth water from the bold fruitiness.

Wes set a pan on the burner and turned the knob, the gas clicking until it lit. "Well, I suppose it's a little of both. My first wonder is how you came to work with my brother. He's not exactly, well, I never imagined him _attached_ to someone."

Another sip of wine because that question felt as if it had two levels as if it were reading the entire theme of this trip. "The first time we met, he said, 'This is the guy I am' and played this dark, moody piece. Maybe it should have scared me off, and maybe it had done so for others before me but I liked it, liked him." I refused to mention the spark I felt the first time we resonated, the way I never liked the fit of another soul but his. "Partnered ever since."

"Hm," Wes's smile oozed amusement. "Dark and moody fits him just right."

My teeth grazed my lower lip, ready to jam the words back down my throat but after another sip of wine, I let them go. "Was he always like that?"

Wes inhaled slowly through his nose before letting the air out in a huff, adding on a sip of wine before he turned his eyes to me, the chopping ceasing. "It's not entirely fair for me to judge being ten years older than him. I cared for him as a baby, but I'll admit that as a high schooler keeping up with a kindergartener didn't appeal to me." He sighed again before turning back to his work, sliding the finely chopped pancetta into the hot pan, making the room explode with that salty, cured smell. "As a child he was playful, soaking up attention when it was given to him, but I suppose that cooled slowly until he was practically mute by ten. I've noticed that he's… better now."

I couldn't imagine a playful, attention-seeking Soul, trying to superimpose Black Star's personality over Soul's body in my mind. He rarely ever asked for recognition, being someone that was sought rather than ever did the seeking. As I stared at the red liquid in my cup, giving it another swirl, the thought suddenly hit me as hard as a slap in the face: _What if that was what his shame was about?_ He needed my touch, my attention, and he loathed asking for it, hated it so much that he saw it as something to be ashamed of.

I pushed that thought away, trying to force myself not to make guesses in the dark, not to build up some kind of hope. The smells helped me refocus on Wes, seeing greens now added to the pan that used to hold the pancetta, deglazed with some of the wine from the bottle, not the glass that Wes was now sipping from.

How long I had been lost in my thoughts didn't seem to affect Wes, who picked up his questioning right from where he left off. "And you two live together?"

"Yes." But I wondered at my inability to admit it was separate rooms, technically separate lives because while I wanted to tell the truth, I didn't want to correct this utopian lie we were living here. "Technically since we became partners."

"You mean you've lived together for more than five years and he hasn't driven you mad?" Wes settled back into a chuckle, "He must be better."

"Soul can be infuriating." I smiled playfully along the rim of my wine glass before taking another sip. "We fight, maybe a little more than we should."

"That's…" Wes turned to me his eyes narrowing for a moment before taking another breath. "I'd be more worried if he didn't fight."

I shook my head, "It's just little stuff, squabbles like when I get on his nerves about something or…" I let the sentence trail off as Wes shook his head.

"Letting things go is how he protects himself, keeps a safe distance between him and another person." Wes shrugged quickly, throwing a laugh at the end, "But like I said, maybe it's not fair for me to say I know these things. I only know from experience, not necessarily from the source."

I wondered if Soul would deny any of these behaviors that seemed to make strange sense and if I stored away these questions for later if he would answer them. The boldness of that thought was too much and I relied on the wine again to push it away, to focus on the alcohol warming my blood. Wes was too busy going about combining different ingredients to notice my silence and I let myself focus on his movements, leaning on my elbow between sips of wine. It wasn't long before Wes was arranging plates for the two of us, generously heaping pasta smothered in the roasted vegetables with a healthy sprinkling of pancetta.

My stomach overpowered any last thoughts of woes and drove me after him towards the table. After placing the plates, Wes went back for the wine, making sure to top off our glasses before leaving the bottle on the table in between us. "Enjoy!" Wes clinked his glass against mine before taking another long sip.

I mirrored him before moving on to the meal in front of me. My relish of the first forkful wasn't forced, the beautiful medley of flavors bringing at least some joy and contentment to the day. I waited for the first mouthful to clear before chiming, "It's amazing, Wes!"

"Thank you," Wes paused between a bite. "But that's the full extent of my talents. Beyond music and food, I haven't got much to offer."

I laughed softly, "I'm not sure what else you need." I went back to enjoying each bite, trying not to gorge myself on the plateful. I had only gotten about halfway through when the sounds of our forks were interrupted by a heavy clank from the hallway, what I could only assume was the door.

"In here," Wes called, confirming my suspicion.

As if in preparation I took another swig of the wine, making sure to scold myself for the impropriety of it even though Wes was too intent on watching the door to the hallway to notice. Soul finally peeked his head in, his eyes blinking, seemingly adjusting to the view of the two of us at the table. "Hey," it half mutter and half murmur as if he couldn't decide whether to be in awe or bothered by the current set up.

"Hungry?" Wes motioned at the table.

Soul looked at me as if I had the answer and I waved him over to the seat next to me and he followed. I slid my plate in front of him, only a little under half full, as he sat. "Here, finish mine."

"I can make more," Wes grinned knowingly, making me blush without much prompting.

"It's fine," I murmured, giving the plate another little push before taking up my wine glass again.

It was a strange sensation, the way he lightly pinched at my elbow as if to keep it out of sight but also keep it within a safe place to touch. "Thanks."

I couldn't look at him, just focused on the wine that I swirled in my glass, hearing the sounds of forks against plates again. Fighting myself, I leaned back, letting the sight of him fall just into my periphery. He looked tired, ragged even, and the thought struck me again that he didn't wake me at all last night and maybe that was because he hadn't even slept. _You can't have nightmares if you don't sleep._ And that reared a wave of ugly anger in me at his stubbornness, that he'd rather make himself sick than just give in.

He either felt that thought or my eyes on him because his gaze finally moved from the plate to me, eyes blinking slowly while trying to register my face. I'd been caught and I had no hope so I moved my eyes directly to his, trying to keep my voice filled with the pleasantness of the wine. "How is your Mom?"

"OK," he grumbled through a mouthful. Surprisingly when it cleared he continued, "She's going to come home to sleep tonight. Doctor thinks we could move Dad to rehab by the end of the week."

"So soon?" Wes interjected.

"Tests are coming back all good," Soul shrugged but the relief was starting to tug a smile onto his lips.

Wes let out a long sigh, resting his chin on his hand. "I bet she's still worried sick."

"When you love someone you can't help it. Even when they're OK, it's like the whole world could fall apart without them." Soul stared at the fork intently, his face registering a shock as if those words weren't his.

I didn't dare touch that statement and Wes seemed to do the same, all of our eyes having somewhere else important to be than each other. I finished the last of the wine in my glass, placing a hand over it as Wes reached for the bottle.

The fork clacked to his plate as Soul stood up. "Thanks, Wes." Without further explanation he started out of the room, steps quickly echoing down the hallway before I could even get a word in edgewise.

"I'm going to…" I stood slowly, trying not to heave a sigh. "Thank you, Wes, for everything."

"Not a problem," he looked at his brother's exit with a wistful sigh. "Just, be gentle with him."

I couldn't do anything but gasp for air in reply at I turned to follow after Soul. His footsteps were already shuffling up the stairs as I entered the hall and I forced myself a little faster so I could catch just the view of his legs as I entered the stairway. He didn't slow, not even a little, and left me almost out of breath trying to catch him, getting to him just before he could shut the door in my face.

Soul turned sharply, his eyes narrowing in that usual way before he was about to start a fight. "Look, if you're going to yell at me can you at least wait until after I get a nap? I didn't sleep at all last night."

This had plenty of fodder for an argument, easy attacks laid out for each of those statements, especially after my conversation with Wes, but I forced myself not to take the bait. "I wasn't going to yell."

"Why not?" The blankness of my tone didn't seem to matter, his side of the fight already started. "I ditched you today. I didn't tell you and I left you here."

I moved past him in his fighting stance and sat down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. "Do you want me to be mad about that?"

"I don't know!" His argumentative tone was withering as he took a step closer to me on the bed.

I shrugged, "I'll admit the selfish side of me was lonely but I'm more proud than anything else."

"Proud?" He spat incredulously.

"You were out with your mom, weren't you?" I motioned him towards the bed, sliding my legs up to my chest to make room for him to sit at my feet.

He sat slowly, eyes focused on his hands. "I was," there was the quiet tone I was looking for, the tentative words.

"You were scared and you did it anyway. That's something to be proud of." I stretched out my legs a little, letting my toes tap at the side of his thigh.

Soul looked at them and a smile threatened at the corner of his mouth. "It wasn't a big deal."

"You can't talk me out of it." I nudged him with my foot again, just barely a kick but his hand wrapped around my ankle, stopping the movement.

He let a few breaths pass between us, his fingers flexing around my ankle. "I'm sorry I yelled."

"Forgiven," I smiled, hoping he'd actually look at my face but finding his eyes detailing my foot instead. "What did you and your mom talk about?"

His lips pressed tightly as if he was about to hold onto the answer but he took a deep breath instead, blowing it out with the words, "Lots of stuff. What I've been doing, which was hard to explain but I tried. She, uh, asked about you and I tried to just tell her general, I don't know…"

I leaned forward, my chest pressing to my knees again so I could get close enough to close my hand around his on my foot. "Did it feel OK?"

Soul released my foot, taking my hand instead, letting our fingers intertwine on the comforter. "Some of it was weird but overall… it's like you said, not the end of the world."

"Good." I tugged on his hand, feeling him resist any movement closer. "Come here."

"What?" Instead of following my lead he seemed to be trying to break apart our fingers.

I let him win the fight with his hand so I could turn to redistribute the pillows, slipping down into the nest I'd made. "You said you couldn't sleep last night. If you lay with me I think I can help. I'm no Marie, but you have to admit that I'm getting pretty good at the soothing wavelength stuff." I tried not to think about the heat on my cheeks at being so bold as to actually verbally suggest this, every other time passing between us without a word.

"Maka…" His eyes were finally on mine, trying to read my face.

"Don't argue," I murmured. I patted the space on the bed next to me, waiting as the only movement he made was to stare at my hand.

"What are you going to do?" the weak whisper fell from his lips.

"I'll read." I picked up my book from the bedside table, pulling in one knee to balance it there. "I'm nowhere near done so you can sleep as long as you want."

It was like watching him in slow motion, the crawl from my feet to bringing his body next to mine, slipping under the offered arm and resting his head against my chest. "I'm…"

I waited for him to finish that thought, unsure of where he was going but when I only got silence I opened my book, letting my other hand rest on his shoulder. "Just rest, OK?"

The only answer I received was his arm finally slipping around my waist, pulling himself tightly to my side.

* * *

It was only about an hour and a half before I was sure I had to get up. As my eyes turned from the letters on the page to his head on my chest, I let my fingers run tentatively through his hair. I held my breath, waiting for some stirring from him. There was nothing, so I shut my book and put it back on the side table, starting to angle my shoulder to get out from underneath him.

His arm tensed around me first before his eyes fluttered open. As he slipped out of sleep, his arm dropped away from my waist, letting me roll away from him. "Sorry…"

I had been smiling but that word struck me, crumbling a little of the comfort I'd just had for the last hour at least. "I just have to get up, that's all. I'll be right back." The bed creaked in response to my rushed movement, pushing myself quickly out of the room and into the attached bathroom. Even with my need, I took a moment to press my back to the door, trying to let go of my growing hatred for _sorry_. After that, I did what I needed to do, spending extra time at the handwashing phase. I turned the tap to cold and splashed some water on my face before cupping my hands to bring some to my lips in hopes of clearing out the wine residuals.

As I re-emerged into the bedroom he was still lounging, only bringing himself up on his elbows as soon as I reached the edge of the bed. "I have to ask you something." Even with all my cool from before, my ability to not fight back, I heard an edge in my voice.

He nodded as his eyebrows furrowed.

I slipped my arms around myself, clutching at my elbows. "Why do you feel the need to apologize for touching me?"

His mouth opened but instantly closed as his breath started to quicken.

That fear on his face fed my own panic and the words just started to spill from my lips. "You said it when you woke up and I'm almost positive you wanted to say it right when you laid down, you even started with the 'I'm' but cut yourself off."

"I don't…" He slowly crawled to a seated position, his eyes burning into me, slowly drifting into a pleading that I'd never seen before. "I don't want to talk about that."

"What does that mean?" It was supposed to be angry but all I could produce was the same pleading that was coming from his eyes. I was tired of it, the fear, the running, but at the same time, I was reaching the maximum in my courage for this.

He pushed a hand through his hair, allowing his eyes to fall to his lap with a shaky breath. "Maka, I…" His voice lowered to almost nothing, "The nightmares, they're always about you dying."

"What?" My fingers tightened on my elbows and my breath felt forced. "That doesn't answer-"

"You're…" There was the dry click of his throat before his words started again. "I know you care. You're the only one."

_Care_ was just a light word, holding not even an ounce of the weight of what I really felt. Correcting it seemed impossible. "It's not just me."

"With my mom, dad, Wes it's always been… I've never felt it, Maka. They could tell me, sometimes show me, but it never sunk in, settled." His teeth set together, the click of his jaw ringing in my ears. "Losing that, losing you is what scares me the most."

A terrifying thought crossed my mind, that somehow soul perception had come as easily to him as it had to me, that my own heart was laid bare every time he touched me. It wasn't possible and that part of me terrified of change grasped for ways to move away from examining it for too long. "So for years, that's what you've been dreaming about?" I waited for some kind of protest, some redirection back to the question of how much I cared. "And why wouldn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't so bad until Asura and…" He moved slowly to the edge of the bed as if it were painful to bring himself to his feet. "I just couldn't tell you. I couldn't. We were so busy with everything, with fighting for our lives that you didn't need to take care of me on top of it all." Soul moved towards me, a tentative hand touching at my elbow. "That's why when you touch me I… I feel guilty like I'm asking for too much. I hate that I make you take care of me."

"Idiot," I murmured. I felt my own eyes starting to water because the realization was finally dawning on me: it wasn't just me sacrificing any other side of myself for the job. We'd become just our work while the rest of it got buried away, held off until there was "time." As if there would ever be any of that. It was the words building up behind my teeth that finally unleashed my own tears. "Taking care of you is what I'm good at. It's what I want to do. You don't _make_ me do any of it."

"Maka…" His lips pressed into a thin line and I could see his jaw clench.

My mind started backpedaling, trying to find an explanation but my mouth leaped without its help. "In the field, of course, but at home, too. It's the only thing that feels right when it's you and me and we're…" I gave up, the jumble of words dissolving into a sob. I wasn't even sure why I was crying, probably because I was stuck somewhere between the fear that just saying all of that would end this or catapult us into something that would only end in ruin. This limbo that we were in had been safe, anything a step in one direction or the other could mean doom.

"Don't get worked up," he murmured. "I'll… Maka, I guess I'll get better at letting you, OK?" Before I could say another word his hands moved, one grasping steadily to my shoulder and pulling me to his chest. Now my face was tucked in the crook of his neck, his hand reaching to smooth my hair. "And I'll get better at doing the same for you."


	4. A Chance

Going to the hospital with him was fine, but I was usually relegated to sitting in the waiting room, nursing bad hospital coffee while reading my book. Not that anyone necessarily told me to, but it felt like a boundary, a border that I wasn't supposed to cross. I wasn't _family_, regardless of recent admissions about both of us _caring_ about each other. Death, how I was starting to hate that word after tearing it to shreds in my mind so many times, trying to ascertain if his feelings just stopped at that word.

To any outside person looking in it would only be rational that if a man tells you that losing you is his greatest fear, you leaving him in this case through death since our life isn't exactly a safe one, that that's a little more than care and much closer to love. If there's anything I am good at it's jumping to incoherent conclusions instead, letting me easily talk myself into nothing more than _care _since our touching never amounted to more than holding onto to one another. Not to mention the fact that concerning myself with all of this while his father was recovering, while I was supposed to be supporting him seemed nothing more than childish and selfish.

Correction, then, that this morning I was sitting in the waiting room, nursing bad hospital coffee while only looking like I was reading my book, instead picking through thought after thought. This continued uninterrupted until Soul plopped down beside me, slipping the half-full, lukewarm cup from my fingers. "You'll hate it," I muttered.

My warning didn't dissuade him and he took a sip, grimacing instantly but only following that face with another drink. "How can you drink this?"

"I think I lost my taste buds long ago," I shrugged with a smirk, "Victims of your cooking."

He chuckled, a smirk replacing the disdain for the coffee. "How's the book?"

"Fine." But I shut it, folding my hands over it in my lap. "How's your dad?"

"Fine," he mimicked my tone perfectly before taking another sip.

I couldn't stop the scolding tone, "Soul…"

He sighed before transferring the cup to his other hand so he could use the closest one to grasp mine on top of the book. "Doctor said left brain, some trouble talking but less than they expected. He'll need rehab and we're supposed to watch because he could get, well, depressed about it. Shit, it is depressing, so I don't blame him, but apparently it's more common." He punctuated that sentence with almost a wheeze for air, trying to hide it behind another sip from the coffee cup.

"Well, there's rehab, that'll help and I'm sure your Mom will…" I let the words fall away because I knew what I wanted to say, that his mother seemed to dote on her husband and maybe that was just a side effect of the tragedy but it felt wrong to even mention it to him. _Look at the love your father gets from her and think about how little you got._

He didn't seem to register the trail off, taking a deep breath before starting again. "I think I want to keep visiting him, too." Soul shook his head as if to disagree with his own statement, turning his eyes to mine for some kind of clarity. "I mean, not every day and I know we have work and missions but something. Something more than just, well, _nothing_."

"Good," I couldn't help but smile in the face of his panic, that pride from before feeding it. With that overwhelming feeling, I found my other hand reaching out, touching his cheek softly. "Soul, you better be proud of yourself."

"You can be proud," he murmured, "I'm just gonna be… I don't know. Still figuring it out, I think."

I nodded, the daring fading away from me as I brought my hand back. "Did you tell your mom?"

"Not yet." He leaned back in the chair, putting the cup down on a small side table meant for magazines. "I wanted to ask you first."

"What, for permission for time off?" I smirked weakly, most of my playfulness gone with the want to touch his face again. "Kid's the boss, not me."

"No…" His throat clicked through a hard swallow. "I want you to come with me, when I do." His hand was instantly in his hair, smoothing it back to allay the nervousness. "If it's too much, just say so and I'll do it on my own but I said I was going to try to let you know when I need things and I think I need this, I need you. And you don't have to come into the hospitals and, hell, you don't even have to meet Dad if you don't want to but just having you close enough that's… but you can say 'no,' Maka."

I followed the ramble as best I could, waiting for him to stop the compulsive pushing back of his hair and look at me. It took him an extra few seconds before our eyes actually met again, a shaky breath leaving his lips as my smile still stood. "OK."

"OK?" It was as if I'd agreed to jump from a plane.

"If that's what you need, that's what I'll do." I could see his jaw setting as soon as the words were out of my mouth and I tried to add, to diminish the correction he was about to make. "It's not too much. It's fine."

Those words only seemed to confuse him more and his fingers started to tighten around mine. "Why?"

The hand that had so daringly touched his cheek moved to his chest, my fingers pressing into the spot where I knew his scar started even without the visual of his chest. "I know you'd do anything for me. Why wouldn't I do the same?"

His hand came over mine on his chest and I could feel his heart thundering under my fingertips. As his eyes moved to the contact I could hear the shaky breath exit his lips but still no words. It took a few more before he could whisper, "Come in with me now?"

I didn't hesitate, "Yeah, of course."

Soul didn't relinquish either of my hands, instead using them to pull me out of the seat along with himself. Before I could move my feet to turn in the direction of the rooms, he let my hands drop only to snake his arms around me, wrapping me tightly against him. I wished it was long and lingering but it almost lasted just long enough for him to breath again before detaching, taking one of my hands and leading me towards his father's room.

The last little bit of that not family feeling was falling away along with the idea that caring was all we were doing.

* * *

I had drifted into the kitchen to find Regina leaning over a teapot, her eyes scanning the liquid as if reading the tea leaves for good fortune.

"Good morning," I tried to let my voice be filled with melodic cheer. It wasn't exactly a stretch, especially with the elation that was growing from Soul toeing the line, being open.

"Oh, Maka, good morning." We'd been there almost a week and she still seemed genuinely surprised at my existence, but at least it had a joyful quality instead of discontent at a stranger in her house. "Tea?"

"Thank you, but I prefer coffee." Regina started to fix the lid back on the teapot and reached for the coffee maker but I placed a soft hand on hers. "Don't worry, I'll do it."

She smiled in reply as she moved to the table with her pot and elaborate teacup, one of those that screaming Victorian lady. "Seems like you've become well acquainted with the kitchen."

I was already sorting through the necessary cabinets for the goods to start the coffee maker but I shot a smile over my shoulder at her nonetheless. "Wes was very helpful and not to brag, but I'm a quick learner." It got to the point where all I needed was to press the on button and the machine sprung to life, huffing and puffing. "Soul said Arthur would be at rehab by the end of the week?"

"They'll wait until after the weekend, Monday most likely," Regina murmured as she poured. "I honestly tried to argue that he could come home but _Soul_ told me absolutely not, that I was trying to take on too much." I honestly didn't have a word to say back to that, surprised at the mere idea that he'd have an opinion let alone voice it and use it to boss his mother. Regina seemed to follow the same thought before continuing, "So Artie will go to that place for a month or so before things can finally go back to normal." That last statement made her laugh gently before she continued, "But it won't be, will it?"

"Hm?" I broke my attention from the dripping coffee, trying to piece together what she could mean.

"Or maybe it will be more normal," she mused before taking a sip from her tea. "Since you and Soul will be visiting more often now."

"Oh," I smiled at the realization and I couldn't help but feel a little heat coming to my cheeks. "Yes, I think we'll try as often as we can but with work and-"

"Don't be silly," Regina waved her hand. "I know you're, well, saving the world most days, aren't you? This was already a burden on you, I know, but I'm glad things are open now."

_Saving the world_, I sighed as I interrupted the coffeemaker to pour my cup. I tried not to let that feeling come over me, the idea that time here was fleeting, that this wasn't really a part of our everyday reality. It was Soul's hand that saved me from the thought, having snuck up on me with a slow fingers gliding down my arm. That was enough to get me to turn, to perfectly deliver my cup of coffee into his thieving hands.

"Good morning," it was a victorious little coo as he took a quick step with my cup.

"Hey!" I grasped at the back of his shirt, getting it just in time to choke him a little at the collar.

It was Regina's healthy laugh that froze both of us, a sound that wasn't common to either of our ears. "Soul Evans, give that back. I assume you'll prefer tea anyway."

I grabbed an empty mug in time to trade it off to him, receiving and instantly moving to protect my coffee from future burglary. "He'll only like it if it's barely brewed."

Soul shot me a dirty look before sitting himself next to his mother. He leaned over and sniffed into the teapot before tipping it into his cup.

"It's the tea your grandmother used to make," Regina smiled. "I think she was actually the first one to let you have anything like that, but even back then you'd have to add milk or you'd never dream of drinking it."

"Ganging up on me," Soul muttered as he shot another glare over the lip of his cup.

Regina and I exchanged a laugh at his expense before she continued, "I was just telling Maka what an inconvenience this must have been for both of you."

Soul frowned, letting his cup thunk back to the table. "Mom…"

The joy on Regina's face didn't falter, her smile turning strangely cool and knowing. "I'd like to make it up to the both of you if you'd let me."

"It's not a big deal, Mom," Soul muttered. "Maka and I-"

"Are going to go out and enjoy yourselves tonight," Regina finished. "With all that's happened the last thing you've been able to do is be a couple. It's not fair and you should take advantage of at least one night out on the town while you're on this impromptu vacation."

"Mom, really, we, I," Soul stuttered along, his eyes permanently stuck away from me.

"That's so kind, Regina, but we," my own head was spinning and I could feel the color rising in my cheeks, "we couldn't leave you alone."

"Wes is still here," she stated matter-of-factly. "And, really, if there's one thing Soul can tell you is fighting me is usually impossible."

All Soul gave in reply for a heaving sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I'll take that as compliance," Regina beamed. "But I will ask one piece of selfishness, that Maka accompany me in a little bit. I have a few errands to run."

Soul sighed again, "Mom-"

My hand on his arm was enough to silence him. "It's OK. I'll go."

"Perfect," she chimed before standing up, leaving her tea at the table. "Just let me freshen up a little and I promise to make it quick."

I flexed my fingers into his arm, thankfully keeping another word from exiting his mouth. "It's fine, Regina. Whatever you need." She gave me a sweet smile as a reply before starting out of the room. I didn't relax my fingers until she was out of the doorway, the sound of her footsteps receding in the hallway. "Soul…"

Soul's hand was running through his hair again, eyes plastered on his mother's teacup so that he couldn't even catch me in his periphery. "Look, I swear, Maka, I never said that we were, _you know_, I don't know how-"

"Partner can be a weird word," I murmured. "And we… the sleeping together, the hand holding…"

"Yeah," he choked. "But I'll… you shouldn't have to do this. I'll just tell her and you won't have to."

The silence was enough that you could hear a flea sneeze and regardless of his words he remained motionless. I blamed the immobility on my hand still on his arm but the looseness of my fingers would have allowed him to leave at any moment if he wanted to. _He's waiting for you to push. You're the courageous one, right? _"Soul…"

"I'll tell her." He stood but my hand clamped on his forearm again, jerking him back. The color was high and bright on his cheeks as he finally turned his face to me.

"Don't," it was a weak whisper, but it was a foot firmly planted in the door he was trying to close.

"What?" His voice practically cracked, the blush refusing to dim from his features.

I was embarrassing him, embarrassing myself but couldn't stop it. "I want to go out with your mother and… I want to go out with you tonight, too." As I loosened my grip his arm slipped out of my fingers only to be caught at his hand as he closed his fingers around mine.

"Maka, you… don't do this just because…" A frustrated sigh escaped his lips.

"Your Mom's right, Soul." I could feel my heart trembling in my chest and I wasn't sure whether or not the next breath would actually come. "We don't get chances like this so… maybe just this once, you and I could… if you want to."

His mouth opened before closing again, swallowing hard as his eyes trailed off to our tangled fingers. "Just… don't let her do anything too crazy this morning. And…" His eyes darted around the way they usually did when he was examining something in his mind, playing it back and forth. He seemed to throw away the entire scenario in his head with a sigh, "No matter what, I'm not wearing a tie."


	5. White Lies

Sorry this took me so long! I swear I've got a chunk written closer to the ending but I'm having trouble getting there. Also, juggling this and the Noragami fic. Poor excuses, so forgive me.

* * *

The morning had consisted mostly of shopping under the guise of household needs. As far as Regina was concerned, the small boutique we were at was on the way to the market where I was going to help her replenish the food in the house. But who was I to ruin her fun as the smile that plastered her face as soon as we walked in was genuine, none of the grays from the other morning? I couldn't, I wouldn't, even if being paraded into the small shop was almost more than I could bear.

"Well, hello, Regina!" A woman about the same age as Regina was leaning over the counter, her brunette tangle of curls tumbling around her face.

"Hello, Angela," Regina cooed as she moved forward and embraced the woman.

Angela kissed both of her cheeks, taking a moment to hold Regina's shoulders. "I heard Artie was ill! How is he?"

"On the mend," Regina's smile faltered for a moment before I could see her force it back. "No need to worry." But again, the authority that I assumed was Regina's baseline was there, surety in the words that Artie would be fine.

"Please, send him my best," Angela gave her shoulders one last squeeze before releasing Regina and moving her pleasant eyes as green as mine to blink at me. "And this is…?"

Regina opened her hand towards me as if I were some surprise gift on display. "My youngest son's girlfriend."

It was not a slow crawl of red up my cheeks but a complete and utter flush to tomato. _Girlfriend_ echoed in my head like a scream in a canyon. Denying it made no sense since Soul had so blatantly missed the opportunity to correct _couple_ this morning and between the hand holding and the sleeping, just sleeping, together it seemed like the only rational answer. Not to mention, Regina was excited: as if having _me_ in that position pleased her, as if I was actually worthy of it. I also had to admit a part of me was dying for it to be true, for Soul to make it be the truth. And he wasn't even here to hear it so I swallowed all of the panics down enough to squeak out, "Maka Albarn."

"No need to be nervous," Angela waved a hand as if to banish my crazed feelings. "I'm just Regina's tailor, not some princess."

"Tailor and oldest friend," Regina corrected. "We've known each other since high school, can you imagine?"

"Don't bore the girl with old stories of us," Angela laughed as she grasped my arm lightly, pulling me towards the back of the store.

Regina smirked, suddenly showing me again the genetic relation to her son, "We were never boring!"

"Well, _you_ never were," Angela snapped back with a hearty laugh. She had pulled me in front of a three-sided, body-length mirror which was decidedly not my favorite place in the world. Age was definitely moving in my favor, puberty having given way to a much more womanly body, but for the most part, I still saw the angular, stick-thin girl when I was reflected back at me. "Now, tell me about what you usually wear."

I couldn't censor the grimace that came to my lips.

"Oh, I see," Angela nodded as if I had spoken volumes.

How are you supposed to describe that most of your outfits get blood-stained or torn so what was the point of actually being stylish? "Just, well, we work so much and I don't wear anything _nice_ there."

Angela looked me up and down, scanning me as if she had x-ray vision before turning back to the stacks and swishing through hanger after hanger. She handed a few things to Regina, who happily peeked over the choices before making me the victim of Regina's sweet gaze. She didn't mean for it, but the way she looked at me felt cruel, that admiring look leaving me jealous again, secretly wishing this was my mother admiring and pampering. Worse yet, I was a liar, receiving all this attention because I was playing a part that I only wished I was.

They tittered together for another moment before converging on me, placing the dresses in my hands before shooing me into the dressing room. The only thing that separated us was a thin curtain and I could hear their idle chatter, mostly surrounding Soul's return and my amazing appearance. None of it helped with the nervousness that was eating at me as I put on the first dress. I tried not to look at myself in the mirror before stepping out, gauging their reactions instead, since I was renowned for being my own worst critic.

"Oh, no," Angela waved me back before Regina could even get a word in edgewise.

I slunk back behind the curtain, dragging it back and beginning the task of putting on the next. The walk back out was slower, any confidence I had slowly deflating after the first flop.

"This one's alright," Regina smiled softly, surely seeing my anxiety and trying to comfort.

"_Just_ alright," Angela corrected, sending me off again.

This was usually why I never ventured into this kind of thing. I rarely tried to closely examine what I wore, again the excuse of blood and destruction coming to mind, but also because I wasn't used to viewing myself as something, Death, _someone_ to be viewed for pleasure by others. How much sex appeal can I even think I have if my first gut reaction is to refer to myself as a thing? And to be honest, I wasn't sure I'd ever even caught Soul looking, and since he was really the only ever object of my desire, it didn't make me think of myself as all that desirable.

"You'll have to zip me," I called, my back to the curtain. I felt soft hands at my back, pulling up the zipper and sucking me into the dress. It wasn't exactly unpleasant, but form-fitting wasn't my usual, leaving me pressing my hands down the front of the dress. I stepped out again, tugging at the hem. It was a little shorter than I was used to, a flowy open bottom with a tightly cinched waist, a sweetheart neckline that rose to cap-sleeves. It had a pale green floral print, giving it a less formal look but I couldn't help but see the way it complemented my eyes.

Regina had watched me turn, a bright smile taking up most of her face, "Perfect!"

"Oh, yes, I think we have a winner." Angela pulled me forward to the three-piece mirror, depositing me in the middle.

For a second, I refused to see it. Again, I was a fighter, a tool used by an organization that saved the world on a regular basis. But slowly the vision leaked in, I was a girl, no, a woman in a cute dress and I was, at the very least, just as cute, maybe even beautiful. I reached up slowly and pulled my hair out of the ponytail, letting it fall naturally. It didn't have the curl my mother's did, but it was thankfully bouncy enough today, not hanging limply but waving past my shoulders.

"Maka, you look lovely," Regina cooed, her hands coming softly to my shoulders. "I think this is definitely the one for tonight."

_Tonight_, I echoed and my stomach flipped in reply. _I'm going to wear this on our date and he'll_… I denied myself any further fantasy in the vein. "Oh, Regina, it's really not-"

"Please, Maka," her hands drifted down my arms as she stared at me in the mirror. "I can't do much, so let me help with what I can."

Maybe it was that she wished this was her and Soul but knew the bond was too tenuous and that I was enough of a substitute, but I couldn't pretend to really understand her words. I just nodded softly, letting her whisk me back into the dressing room while she took the dress off with Angela, her treat. I didn't hem and haw, just let it happen and smiled and nodded for the remainder of the shop talk. Inside, the anxiety was building, the anticipation that I was possibly going to look stunning and I had no idea how Soul would take it.

Of course, we also still had the joy of food shopping, Regina making small talk mostly about myself and little hidden tidbits about Soul as we walked the aisles. I gave her everything I had, even being honest about my family situation which she showed a considerable amount of empathy for, even going so far as to offer an ear for any further problems. By the time the trip was through, overwhelmed was an understatement.

I was actually pleased to find that when we returned home, both Wes and Soul were out, presumably together. I excused myself from Regina after putting the groceries away and returned to our room with the dress in hand. After hanging up the dress in the closet, I threw myself on the bed, face once again threatening close to his pillow so I could get the ghost of his scent. I felt so split as if I were slowly becoming two people, the one that was dominated by DWMA and the other that so desperately wanted to be just another human.

I let a few tears fall over that fight before closing my eyes, hoping that maybe the darkness would help me forget some of it.

* * *

Soul woke me with a gentle hand to my shoulder. "Maka."

"Hey," I croaked, slowly pushing my way to sitting.

As I sat up, his hand slid down my arm, resting on my hand on the bed. "You OK?"

"I am now," I murmured, not really thinking about the words. I watched a soft pink hit his cheeks and I nervously added, "I mean, after the nap. I was, well, it felt like a long morning."

The blush slowly drained away with a frown. "I told you that you didn't have to. Mom can be-"

"Totally wonderful," I interjected. "I know that it's different between you and her but she acts like a mom, you know? And, well, it's hard for me sometimes."

His teeth set for a moment and I could see a flash of anger take over his eyes before he blinked it away with a slow breath. "Well, I'm glad at least she wasn't... she can be difficult sometimes."

I bolstered myself with a deep breath before bravely treading into it. "You were mad just now. Why?"

"No, I-" My eyes narrowed at him and he rolled his with a sigh. "OK, yeah, just… it's not my business, Maka, and I probably don't know all of it but the way your mom just," he interrupted himself with a shrug and another harsh sigh. "She hurts you and I hate that."

"So overprotective," a laugh trembled out of my mouth, half in disbelieve. I had assumed it was the relationship I was trying to build with his mother he was starting to dislike and this new option hit me in the heart.

He sighed and grumbled something under his breath that I couldn't catch.

"Soul…" I reached out for him, wrapping my arms around him so I could rest my cheek against his shoulder. "Thank you."

"For what?" his voice sounded tight against my ear but one arm circled around my waist.

"For letting me borrow your mom," my laugh this time had a little more strength and I pulled him a little tighter. "I guess, for caring, too."

All that came from his mouth was a sharp _tsk_ before his other arm wrapped around me, allowing me to be as close as I needed. We stayed like that for a few breaths, his hand flexing against my back in an attempt to soothe. "Mom said she made reservations for us at six."

I pulled away, raising an eyebrow at him. "Reservations?"

Soul rolled his eyes before clearing his throat. "At the club. Dinner and dancing."

"Oh, fancy," I laughed at his obvious distaste. "And thank you in advance for suffering through it."

He let me go and then shrugged, using the movement to get himself off the bed and far enough away from me that the words almost didn't reach my ears. "It's what you want."

"And you don't?" It came out barely as a squeak and I thought he might not have even heard it until I saw his shoulders heave with another sigh.

"I didn't mean it that way," he groaned. "I meant that I… fuck." He muttered off for a second, running his hands through his hair before glancing back at me to test the look on my face. "I want you to be happy tonight, OK?" It was grumbly and short but my heart leaped into my throat anyway.

I had to take a few breaths to recover my senses but I could still feel the heat on my cheeks. "We both should be happy, Soul."

"Yeah," he muttered before shrugging again, this time less in confusion or lack of words and more as if to cast off some kind of feeling in his body. It didn't work and as the movement finished he seemed to be even tighter.

I had to do something to ease him out of whatever insufferable thing it was so I tried to get as far away from the conversation as possible. "What time is it?"

"Two." That seemed to help since the small answer allowed him to look at me again.

"Let's watch a movie to kill time." I hopped off the bed and rearranged my clothes before turning back to smile at him. "Your pick."

Soul was trying to resist it but his smile rarely stayed tucked away. "OK."

I didn't really wait for him, especially since as I turned away he was already walking towards me, and began the walk out of the bedroom and down the stairs. I expected to run into Wes, but he was nowhere and the house was mostly quiet. It wasn't until I tiptoed into the living room that I came upon Regina, book open in her lap. "Oh, hello." I didn't stop my entrance, coming around the side of the armchair to peek at the book title.

"Hello, darling," she smiled softly. "What are you two up to?"

I glanced back at Soul, seeing where the two came from. "We were thinking a movie but if you're reading we could always just grab one and take it upstairs."

"Not necessary," Regina chimed as she shut her book. "As long as you don't mind me watching as well."

I moved from Regina to the couch, watching as Soul tentatively paused at her side as well to plant a soft kiss on her cheek. The shock spread across her face and she gave him a brilliant smile in return. It only widened more when he mumbled, "That's fine, Mom."

As he turned to me my smile wasn't any less bright and I could have laughed at the bewildered, almost suspicious look on his own face. "I have to warn you, Soul is picking, I promised." He avoided the couch and went over to the DVD collection, crouching to examine the titles.

"Ugh, just as long as it's not that insufferable horror movie you and your brother used to watch incessantly." Regina made a show of rolling her eyes in my direction.

Before I could even get out the question Soul laughed, "_The Exorcist_. She hates the puking part."

"It was torture!"

Soul shrugged in reply, sending another laugh in the direction of the DVDs. He finally seemed to settle on one, walking it over to the player and popping it in. He came walking back over to the couch, remote control in hand and flopped down next to me. I expected we'd have a wall between us, especially with Regina in the room, with being out in the open where anyone could see because the only time anything ever happened between us was when we were alone. Before I could give him space, his arm wrapped around me, his hand resting on my shoulder. I looked from it to him, seeing him more intent on the screen and the remote than acknowledging my searching look. Instead, he flexed his fingers as I dug in a little closer against him, my head resting on his shoulder.


	6. The First Date

HUGE update! I also don't know what more there really is to write, so this fic may be done? Let me know what you all want since I enjoy pleasing my audience.

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I was technically hiding in the bathroom, having finished getting ready minutes ago even though it felt like hours. Soul was on the other side of that door, shuffling around the room in his own preparations which gave way to one or two curses filtering through the doorway. Courageous Maka was who I was waiting for, my back against the door as if it needed more than the lock to keep him out. It was less about how I looked, because as I had come to rationalize with Regina I did look good, and more the expectation, the fear of how he would look at me. I knew the clock was ticking, so with a shaky breath, I tried to make a steady exit from the bathroom.

Soul's back was to me, staring at himself in the mirror in intense concentration. As soon as he caught my face in the reflection he turned and I couldn't do anything more than freeze, a tentative smile on my face that was ready to crumble as soon as his face changed. "Wow," fell out of his mouth with his breath and pink instantly flushed his cheeks as he stuttered through the next part, "I mean, it looks nice. _You_ look nice. You're… you got that with Mom?"

I was almost too struck by the moment to realize there was a question at the end. He had blushed. _Blushed_. And while nice wasn't exactly the most descriptive word he'd meant it because he was never someone to say something just to please another person. I had expected some cool, casual glance accompanied by a turn back to the mirror but he was still standing there staring, his eyes trying not to waver but dipping occasionally to see the entirety of me. I finally snapped out of the trance and managed to chirp, "Yup, Regina approved. Not that I, well, this isn't exactly my normal so I wasn't sure…"

"No, it's, I don't know, perfect for you." He crammed the words together as he turned back to the mirror, not hiding very well since I could still see the reflection of his face, his mouth gulping for air as his cheeks lit up again.

"Thank you," I murmured and meant it more than he could probably ever realize.

Soul grunted in reply, going back to fiddling with the tie around his neck.

"Do you need help?" I took a step towards him but he waved me off. I moved to the bed, sitting still in the line of sight of the mirror. "I thought you said no ties."

"Yeah, well," he grumbled. "Wes said since Mom was taking you out that we should go out and he kind of tricked me into clothes shopping, too. Said I couldn't get away without a tie since it's the club."

"Tricked you?" I prodded playfully.

He shot me a half-hearted glare before scowling back in the mirror to finish with the tie. "Wes and my Mom both manage to talk you into things without you knowing them."

"Well, I'm glad he did." I moved slowly with just enough nerve to come up behind him, putting a soft hand on his arm and turning him towards me, both of us now framed in the mirror. "You look handsome, partner," it was supposed to be playful but it sounded idiotic.

"Thanks, _partner_," he muttered back. His eyes seemed too focused on me as if taking in every little detail. Slowly, his hand came up, touching at the cap of my sleeve as if to just feel the fabric between his fingers. His lips gaped for a moment before he cleared his throat while his eyes examined the two of us in the mirror. "We should get moving."

"Alright." I grabbed the hand that fell from my sleeve and he easily tangled his fingers with mine. "Are we taking Spirit's car?"

Soul managed a chuckle before shaking his head. "You don't know Mom very well." The answer left me blinking and he began to pull me out of the door and down the hallway without further explanation.

With Regina waiting at the bottom of the stairs it was like deja vu of the teenage prom experience. Of course, I hadn't actually had one of those experiences, but this is what the movies made me imagine: nervous boy and girl paraded in front of parent(s) before being whisked off to a magical evening, or at least what I could hope and dream was a magical evening. And just as expected Regina held her phone in her hand, motioning to Soul to stop. "Let me take a picture."

"Mom," Soul started the complaint but I yanked at his hand until it trailed off into a mutter.

"Come on, get close," Regina chimed.

Soul's eyes met mine for a moment, a silent pleading there that I couldn't quite translate until I felt his arm circle me, his hand resting on my hip. Why did it feel like I could his skin was burning right through my dress? That his touch was lighting up all the nerves on the delicate dip in my side? I tried to turn my trembling breath into a smile as I moved to face Regina. She snapped a few through my daze before finally sending us on our way, shooing the two of us out the door to a town car waiting outside.

Like the true gentleman he can be when his mother is watching from the doorway, Soul opened the car door for me. I could barely make out the driver through the partition since it was mostly blacked out, his face only slightly visible because he had lowered the middle window halfway. "The Quiet Springs Club, please," Soul spoke as soon as he had his head in the car, barely settled before the words came out.

"A driver?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

He shrugged and the car seemed to set into motion the instant he was completely in the seat, the partition slowly rising to leave us to each other. "You've seen the house, right?" He nodded back at what I would call a mansion, not a house. "My family doesn't exactly do ordinary."

"Except for you," I smiled.

"Hey," he frowned, "I'm not ordinary. Hello, _Death's Last Weapon_? I'm cool, totally not ordinary."

I rolled my eyes as dramatically as possible. "So cool you can barely tie a tie."

"Ties aren't cool," he grumbled back.

Even throughout our joking, I wished he'd latch on to me again, pull me in with an arm or grab me with a hand, but as our words died down his eyes drifted out the window, watching the world pass us. We were on the highway and I absently watched the buildings and businesses fly by the window. It was only a few turn-offs before we were no longer zooming down populated streets but drifting down a long, wooded lane. There weren't any actual springs to see and I wondered at the purpose of the name, but I supposed that the beauty of the building excused it all.

It was a classical rambling farmhouse that had been extended to what I assumed it needed to be considered a club, but thankfully they'd kept in the theme of the original architecture. The car stopped just at the stone walkway that led to a matching staircase to the large oak front doors. A young man opened the door as soon as the car came to a stop and I found myself waiting for Soul to take the lead for once. He did, getting out of the car before turning quickly back to cut off the doorman and take my hand, pulling me out of the car.

All etiquette here was lost on me so I clung to Soul's elbow and let him move me into the oversized house. Moving into the house was almost effortless, with doormen and what I could only guess were hosts showing us through every turn. When we got to the large entryway, one of those hosts who so ceremoniously stood at a podium waved us over. "Name, please."

"Soul Evans." Soul annoyedly touched at his tie, probably calculating how much more time he'd have to spend in the thing.

"Oh, the younger Mr. Evans. We were sure it'd be Regina and Arthur this evening, but what a pleasant surprise." And while I was sure he was trained to say something in that regard, the host was fairly convincing in his joy over our arrival. "You and your guest can come this way."

Soul glanced back at me in time to see my raised my eyebrows which got me a ghost of a smile in return. We followed the host through the main dining room, the average clientele at least twenty years older than us which bought us a few turned heads. I was expecting us to stop soon but the host simply continued, turning into a narrow corridor at the end of the hall. This hallway was enclosed by windows on one side, giving a clear view of the grounds behind the house, rolling hills dotted with flowering trees to break up the spans of green. The yard was one thing, but the room that the corridor gave way to was another.

Actually, it wasn't really a room but more of a greenhouse, the entirety of the walls made up of glass. The lights were dimmer, just a few antique looking chandeliers giving a soft glow to the room while the green of the hanging ivy and delicate blossoming flowers brightened what the light didn't. "It's beautiful," I whispered to Soul, tugging at his arm.

"Mom's favorite." Soul's smile looked conflicted, unsure if it wanted to falter or widen.

The host pulled out my seat and I took it, looking expectantly at Soul. "Wine this evening?"

"Ah, no, but I'll have a bourbon neat and she'll have a bee's knees." He could never say that without laughing and this time was no different.

"I'll be right back with those." The host seemed just as amused before he turned and made his way back to the corridor, leaving us alone in the greenhouse.

"Ordering for me?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Am I wrong?" he smirked.

I shrugged with a sigh, our predictability almost laughable at this point. "Your Mom comes here a lot?"

"This is their date spot, has been for my whole life at least." He paused to take a look around the room as if to see the ghost of them at the tables in the room. "I was here for parties, celebratory stuff."

"Not on date night, I'm guessing," I tried to be playful and was strangely rewarded with his face growing red.

"Actually, my first date was here." Soul looked like he regretted saying it as soon as it was out of his mouth and I could have been nice, let him get away with it, but it was too enticing to actually have him talking and giving up secrets.

"With a girl?" I smirked.

"Yes, with a girl," he spat back. "I've dated girls."

"Right now it sounds like _a_ girl," I pointed out much to his chagrin.

He tapped on the table impatiently before grimacing. "OK, _a _girl. But once I got to DWMA, got you," he seemed to rethink that line, editing after clearing his throat, "I've just been too busy, I guess."

"We both have," I answered back quickly. "This would kind of be my first date."

Soul's let out a warbling sigh, hesitating to touch that statement and only just being saved by a waiter returning with our drinks and menus. Even I was partially glad for his intervention, not sure I wanted a reply to that loaded sentence. It felt desperate, lame, and would probably shrivel and die if he tried to shower me with any kind of pity. I tried to kill that feeling with a sip of my drink, focusing on the tang of the lemon, a touch of honey, that mellowing sensation of the gin.

He dived into the menu, mostly obscuring his face either to hide or recover. It took time but he finally muttered, "You should get whatever you want."

I gazed over the listings, many peppered with French terms that I was too plebeian to know and all of them distinctly missing prices. I still managed to find something I would want and then watched and waited for Soul to snap his menu shut. We were achingly silent, half watching each other and the room until the waiter came and jotted down our orders only to disappear again.

For better or for worse a few other couples had finally been sat with us and eventually a small trio of musicians started to set up in the far corner closest to the entryway. I should have joked with Soul about the acoustics, something that probably would have gotten him going for a good five minutes, but I couldn't figure out how to make my voice work through the anxiety that had started to build. I was stuck in a quagmire of what my brain was telling me were already the night's mistakes.

"Hey," his voice was soft and I realized he'd reached a hand across the table. "Talk to me. Ask me something or… just talk, Maka."

I grabbed up his hand like a lifeline and felt all those thoughts banished away. "So, tell me about your first date."

He groaned, "I never should have mentioned it."

My smile came back a little stronger than before, "But you did, so…"

"So…" He sighed before taking a long swig of his drink, making his eyes water in the process. I used the time to sip at mine, noticing I had been a little too aggressive and was reaching the bottom, taking my last gulp just as he was starting again. "Let's go dance."

"Changing the subject?" But I let him stand up and pull me by the arm, moving me towards the band and where they had cleared a few tables to make a small dancefloor. He surprised me by slipping his arm around me rather than just resting on my hip, his hand burning in the small of my back. I took his hand, fingers intertwined with mine and let him take the lead for once. This was an easy activity for us, tempo and interpreting each other's moves never being much of a stretch. "So, your date."

His sway was a little disjointed as if the memory swung him off balance. "It was embarrassing. Mom and Dad were in the main room so she could spy all she wanted. She set it up, anyway, her friend Angela's daughter, not like I had the guts to ask a girl out."

"I met Angela," I chimed.

"Of course you did," he muttered. "Her daughter, Phoebe, nice, cute enough but…" He paused for a gulp of air, eyeing me carefully. He seemed to wince a little before sucking in a deep breath. "How come you never went out with anyone?"

"You've met my dad, right?" It was the only statement I could think to make and the only one that allowed me to laugh. The real answer struggled against the beat of my heart.

"Yeah, Spirit's heavy," Soul narrowed his eyes a little. "But you give him hell most times, anyway. And I know that guy from meister class asked you out."

"How do you know that?" I was fairly sure the only person who had received that confidence was Tsubaki and Liz, but if either of them had talked to their meisters it wouldn't be a surprise that it spread further than that. The idea that he knew somehow mortified me as if it was some kind of infidelity.

His best answer was a shrug as his eyes searched the room.

"No, you can't get away with that," I squeezed his hand to emphasize and bring his eyes to the frown on my face. "I didn't tell you that."

Soul rolled his eyes before using them to closely examine our table behind me. "I may have found out from Liz."

I wanted to shake the information from him. "She told you or you asked?"

I knew he was stalling, his fingers tentatively tapping mine before murmuring, "I asked."

"You're jealous…" I snapped my mouth shut after the words exited, regretting the gut reaction.

"I… Maka, I was just…" I could see him calculating, running dialogue in his head as his palm turned sweaty in mine. "Look, he just wouldn't have been good enough for you, OK?"

"Then who, in your opinion, is, Soul?" I blinked up at him, watching him gape at me.

"Nobody," he grumbled.

I laughed, letting myself lean in a little closer. "You're being overprotective again."

He huffed in reply as his arm tightened slightly around me. We moved for a while in silence, his thumb starting to rub soft lines in my back. After getting too comfortable through three or four songs, he murmured, "Dinner's here." Then came the detaching, leading me back to the table by hand before depositing me in my seat. Eating became a silent activity, but I caught him once or twice looking my way as his fork absently hung in the air.

Somewhere along the way I had gotten through my second drink, feeling the tingle that once again reminded me that I was a lightweight. I couldn't tell if that was his second or third, especially since Soul rarely seemed to actually exhibit drunken behavior, only groaning the next morning about the hangover. Even with the alcohol, Soul didn't seem inclined to talk again and as the waiter cleared our plates and offered dessert, we both waved him off as if the dinner needed to be cut short.

I found myself looking past him and out to the lawn, my eyes falling on a walking path strung with lights. "Can we go outside?"

"What?" I had broken the spell of his own stare, eyes finely focused on my face.

"Outside, it looks like there's a path." I nodded behind him and he followed my motion, head scanning over his shoulder.

"Oh, sure," his voice sounded anything but. He stood slowly, tossing back the last of his drink in the process. "This way."

"Don't we have to pay?"

"It's on Mom's tab," he shrugged before turning to start the walk to the end of the greenhouse where the lights seemed to start.

"Slow down," I muttered, grasping at his elbow that jutted out as he jammed his hands in his pocket.

He did as he was told, letting me make up space between us. "Sorry."

The night air was the perfect temperature, not cool enough that I was wishing for a sweater, but just enough that I could pull close to him without overheating. I wasn't actually sure he appreciated the closeness, a tight grimace on his face as we started down the path. "Have you ever come out here?"

"Once or twice." He created some space between us as his hand came out of his pocket and forced my fingers to intertwine with his.

It was the first time in a long time I struggled to find conversation with him, letting the panic of the approaching end of the night tug at me. "The trees are nice," I croaked, the emotion started to choke me.

He slowed almost to a stop, eyes looking over my face as I offered him an unsure smile. He sighed shakily and began pulling me off the path and into the dew-covered grass. "This way."

"Where?" We were moving more towards the front of the building, away from the winding trail that would take us to the back and I was beginning to see part of the driveway. That tightening continued as I thought he was just leading me back towards the car but I found him veering off towards the side, half stumbling down a little hill to bring us to a small pond which must have been obscured by trees from the road.

"The path's pretty lame but this spot…" He let go of my hand, taking a few quick steps towards the treeline before busying his hands amongst the branches.

"What are you doing?" I barely got the question out before he was turning back to me, a stem of clustered purple flowers pinched between his fingers.

The luxurious smell hit me before he handed it to me. "Lilacs," he murmured. I cupped the flowers in my hand, bringing it to my nose to really enjoy it. As I was falling in love with the scent he was slowly taking off his suit jacket, laying it down on the grass before motioning me towards it. "Take a seat."

"But your jacket-"

"No big deal." And this time he grabbed my arm for emphasis, guiding me towards the spot. I did as directed and waited for him to plop down next to me, pressing his shoulder to mine. He leaned himself back slightly, hands clenched into the dewy grass to keep himself upright. "When I got tired of the party, this is where I'd go."

"You've never been big on those, huh?" I flipped the flowers over in my fingers, still letting the scent linger under my nose.

"Depends on the people. Black Star parties, those I can dig, especially since he can't hold his liquor for shit," Soul let himself laugh again, one of the real ones that made my heart flutter. "Easier when you're around, too. I know you joked about getting close to having the Marie vibe, but you do, Maka, at least for me." Any joy he had in that sentence tapered off with a sigh, "I never thanked you, right? For all of this? For dealing with my shit when you shouldn't have to."

"I guess tonight can be your thank you," I shrugged.

He sucked his teeth, "I didn't do anything tonight. Mom did or you did. Again, I'm just here, tripping over my words and strangling in my tie."

I turned towards him, reaching out my fingers and grasping at the fabric around his neck. I loosened it, watching as his throat bobbed comically through a swallow. "There, not strangling now at least."

"Still feels like I can't breathe." When I looked at his face there was fresh pink highlighting his cheeks.

With the tie clutched in my fingers, I used it to pull him closer, making the gap between us disappear. I had imagined this moment in ten thousand different ways, from an accidental peck on the couch to a bloody kiss-me-before-you-die occasion, but none of them had prepared me for this. His lips were so warm and it felt as if I suddenly needed that heat to survive. It all felt too short and before I knew it, our lips had parted and he was barely breathing across mine. "Soul…"

His hand closed over mine, pressing it in his chest as the heat of his lips came back to me, making me dizzy at the return. Soul was more tentative, testing my nerve endings with the featheriness of his kiss. It was the light this time that broke us, a hurtful beam that cut through the darkness and made us both squint away. "Shouldn't wander off the path," a wannabe authoritarian voice tried to boom from the darkness. "Maybe you two should go back inside."

When my eyes could finally focus I saw the security markings on his shirt. "Sorry, we just…"

"We're going home," Soul saved me from any other explanation. He stood slowly and waited for me, reaching down to grab his jacket as I left it. We walked past the mostly amused guard, the embarrassment written on both of our faces. Neither of us grabbed for one another, just walked side by side to the car that was waiting just a little further up the walk. Soul opened the door for me and I sunk in, making room for him.

I couldn't tell if being alone made Soul stiffer, his back straight against the seat instead of his usual lean. I tried my mantra again in my head, _I'm going to do what I want_, and grabbed his hand. Now I could see the tightening, especially in his jaw, and the intense focus towards the window. I squeezed his fingers, trying to send a message and he managed to cough out the words, "You kissed me."

Replying to that seemed unnecessary because what do you say to a fact? And if he wanted something else from this where were his questions? His demands? The frustration was enough that my tongue couldn't be contained. "I told myself I was going to do what I wanted tonight and that's…" Even with my annoyance, my bravery wasn't there, letting the words drift off, but I knew I had said enough for him to piece it together.

"I kissed you back," he murmured.

My stomach turned into that good kind of knot as the memory flashed through my mind, the tentative, anxiety-filled softness of his lips. "You should try to do what you want, too, Soul. Be a little selfish for once."

I watched that last sentence hit him, his lips pressing together tightly before he turned and looked at me, his mouth opening to speak but nothing coming out. I knew I should replace his silence with my own words but there was nothing good enough that I had the ability to say to fill the space. In the pause, his other hand came up, fingers hesitantly hovering next to my cheek before finally meeting my skin with a long exhale.

The car jostled us and I thought for sure he'd use it as an excuse to break away but he used the momentum to move forward, his lips clumsily locking against mine again. He had almost missed, latching more to the side of my mouth, but I tilted towards him, bringing him home to just the perfect spot that made my breath feel useless in calming my heart. Even in the ecstasy, I could feel him starting to pull back, to keep it as just another chaste, quick connection but my mind screamed against it. I grasped my hand into his shirt and almost yanked him forward, keeping him in place.

There was a piece of me dying of embarrassment, the forcefulness of it all, and as I broke through his lips with my tongue and tasted the inside of his mouth I still felt the urge to run. That seemed to break his doubt, his hand slipping from my cheek into my hair to now keep me from getting away as his tongue searched along with mine. Even without trying, I could read the want, the need sizzling off of him in waves crashing into me as his lips did. My mind kept screaming over and over again, _Don't stop_, and I swore he could hear me, his kiss constant in maintaining its fervor.

It wasn't until there was a knock on the glass that I realized the car had stopped. Soul's grip slowly released from my hair as our lips parted, his breathing almost a pant. He wordlessly stared at me for a moment, his face just as flushed as I felt my own was, red patches high on his cheeks. "Maka…" was all he could manage, his hand squeezing in mine.

"Let's go inside." I opened the door, welcoming the cool night air against my skin. I had to let go of his hand to help myself out of the car but stopped only a step out of the doorway to wait for him. He looked past me at the house as he exited, eyes trailing its entirety before letting me take his hand again, urging him inside the house. He felt neither resistant or demanding, letting me guide him into a house he obviously knew better. I had almost half expected Regina to be waiting up, expectant for details on our evening but the whole house was dark and quiet, our footsteps the only thing echoing in the halls.

The bedroom was miles away and each step undulated me back and forth between giving in to the want and staying Maka Albarn, scythe meister who would never dare. My step through the doorway of the room was the want and I refused to take another step, feeling him stop short behind me as the door creaked shut. I cleared my hair to the side, "Will you unzip me?"

His hand pressed my back and paused, a shaky breath leaving his lips. I expected him to say something but instead I felt his hand drift up, grasping the zipper and bringing it all the way down. As if he hadn't, his hand returned to the top, slipping just inside the fabric to press against the bare skin of the middle of my shoulder blades. "Tell me to stop," his whisper was as unsteady as his fingers that continued to move across my shoulder, making the fabric start to slip.

With a slow breath I turned my head slightly, still not able to see him in my periphery. "Why?"

"Because…" His other hand started to move in the opposite direction, pushing the shoulder of my dress as it moved along.

"I don't want you to stop." I punctuated that with a shrug of my shoulders, giving the cloth the last permission it needed to slide the rest of the way off my shoulders and down my arms to puddle at my feet.

"Maka," my name came out as an order, as if I was still supposed to be derailing this instead of helping it along. Those uncertain hands moved back in towards my spine, fanning out to glide down my sides.

I couldn't think of a more perfect feeling in the world than his hands resting against my bare hips, hesitating at the swell and all I could produce was a contented sigh. Even though I didn't want the touch to leave I turned around, feeling his hands floating tentatively between the two of us. His eyes hit the ceiling as he blew a deep breath through his lips. I started the slow process of unbuttoning his shirt as his hands hovered upwards to grab at my elbows. "You can look," I murmured.

"No," he groaned as his fingers slipped forward and tightened on my forearms, stopping the motion of my hands. "Maka, stop."

"Why?" My voice was strained as I could feel the tears threatening, the idea that I was wrong and all of tonight had been just some kind of trick in my head hitting me like a punch to the gut.

The way his fingers clamped on my arms bordered on painful but the look on his face told me he was the one hurting far below the skin. "What reason do you want? My mom's sleeping the next room over. We're drunk." His voice cracked before it came back with a force I wasn't expecting, "And it's going to kill me to touch you knowing I love you and you don't feel the same way."

Even the whisper of the thought of tears was gone, an elation growing in me that made his final part of that statement almost laughable. "What?"

"I told you, I know you care, I know you want to take care of me, but it's… you _have_ to." His hands were shaking, forcing my arms from his grip as they fell useless to his side. "I'm your _weapon_, but me, as just me, you can't love me."

I took my fingers from the buttons, lifting them to cup at his face, to force his eyes at least to mine. "Soul, listen to me."

"Maka-" he started the protest but as I pressed myself a little closer he instantly quieted, his fingers grazing my thighs.

"At first I told myself that my feelings were because you were convenient, you were the person I was with the most, that in a way it kept both of us safer if we meant more to each other." I swallowed, begging silently for those hands to come back, to anchor me to him. "We fought together, could die together, so all those feelings just must be that." I shrugged, letting one of my hands fall to his chest, fingers pressing into the spot where I knew his scar was hiding. "Then, I clung to the excuse for a year that there's a different kind of love for meisters and their weapons."

His eyes watered as his breath hitched and he threw his eyes up again seemingly embarrassed at the emotion. "I know."

"But you don't." I caressed his cheek, bringing his eyes back to me as they brimmed with tears. "I know we don't get a lot of it, but the downtime… the moments in my life when I have nothing else to do, every one of those moments I've wanted to be with you. When you have an arm around me on the couch. When you pick movies I know you hate but know I want to watch. When you wake up early on Sundays to play piano just because once, just _once _I said that it was the best way to wake up." I cleared away some of the tears from his face, watching as his eyes widened as his thoughts progressed with my words. "It's not convenience, not self-preservation, it's adoration. I love you because of who you are, not what."

Every bit of me relaxed as his hands slowly planted back at my hips and I used it as an excuse to step forward, closing the space between our bodies. "You love me," the words fell somewhere between a sigh of relief and a question, his face pressing to the crick of my neck.

"In every way," I laughed as my fingers ran through his hair. "But I know… I know that getting undressed may have pushed a little too hard."

He exhaled a laugh across my skin, sending a chill down my spine. "It's not that I don't want…" His face reappeared as he laughed again, moving so he could look into my eyes. "Maka, you better not hit me."

"What?" I laughed back.

"Because I _do_ want to look." He lifted one of his hands from my hip to the base of my neck, stretching out his fingers as he trailed them and his eyes across my collarbone. "And touch…" His fingers stopped but his eyes continued lower, drifting down as a slow smile spread across his face. "But it's hard to believe, you know? And shit's so weird right now, being in this house, and…" His eyes came back to my face, "I don't want to go too fast and mess this all up. It's what I want but…"

I breathed slowly, bringing my hand to his face and brushing back the white tangles of hair from his forehead. "I guess it felt like we were running out of time. When we go back…"

"It'll be different," he murmured. "We won't get a lot of nights like this but I'll keep giving you those moments you want. Promise." Soul let out a long, lingering sigh as his hand drifted back to my neck, cupping beneath my chin. "And when we're home, alone, stone sober and ready, I guess, that's when I want to, well," a grin finally broke on his face and to my surprise he rested his forehead against mine, "You definitely don't love me for my way with words."

"It's alright," it was easy to laugh, the elation of being pressed so close to him without need for excuses setting my whole mind free.

He cleared his throat and I could feel his grip tightening under my chin, "You're OK with waiting?"

"I've waited a few years for this to happen," I giggled again. "So waiting for another week or so won't kill me."

"Fuck," he muttered with a sharp laugh of his own. "Years, Maka? Seriously?"

"Yeah," I murmured through my painfully stretched smile. I patted his chest, taking a step back from him. His hands begrudgingly let me go, drifting back down to his side. I made my way to my bag, rustling through for my nightshirt. At this point my modesty was useless, so I unclasped my bra but still made sure my back was to him before sliding on my shirt. I could hear him shuffle behind me and found him getting undressed as well, stripping down to the usual nightwear of his boxers and t-shirt.

I heard the bed creak as he threw himself back on it, his eyes focused on the ceiling. "When?" It was a nervous, quiet question.

"Love at first sight," I cooed as I knelt onto the bed, sitting so that I could lean over him, a hand planted above his shoulder to help me move into his line of sight.

"Maka," he groaned.

I rolled my eyes and ended it with a sigh. "There wasn't an exact moment. I guess I knew it for sure when I realized you were the only person I never expected to leave me." I leaned in hesitantly, my eyes searching his as if I needed to gauge his receptiveness to me being so close. At this point I should have known hesitation was stupid because his hand slid to the back of my neck, bringing me firmly and without doubt back to his lips. I half-sighed into his mouth, the contentedness brought by his kiss overwhelming me. He let our mouths part for air and I whispered, "What about you?"

"Love at first sight," he murmured.

"Soul," I mimicked his exasperation from before.

"No, really." His fingers slid up my neck, tangling in my hair and giving me chills. "Or maybe love at first touch. When you shook my hand to be partners. I knew I was done for." A smirk started to pull at his lips and he exhaled a laugh hotly over mine. "The _want_ came a little later though."

"Want?" I sat up to see the almost drunken glaze over his eyes, the content smile on his lips. His fingers slid through my hair as his arm fell to the bed.

"Love was wanting to keep anyone and anything from hurting you." He pushed up on his elbows, lessening the space again as his smirk grew. "Wanting you was when I couldn't stop thinking about you, when would be the next time I could find an excuse to hold your hand or touch your skin." He blushed with a protracted sigh, "What it would be like to kiss you."

"You thought about that?" I couldn't keep the disbelief from my voice because until this trip I hadn't felt like I'd even seen glimpses of moments where I was on his mind, where his eyes might linger or he might blush.

"We both know I'm good at hiding things," his laugh bordered on rueful and I felt his hand close over mine. "But when you started coming to my room at night, it was more difficult to keep it tucked away. I still don't know how you didn't catch me, especially looking at you, Maka. It's embarrassing how much I'd stare and just think…"

I could feel my cheeks flaring with color at the insinuation, with the possible daydreams that he could have had with me as the star. "When did that start?"

Soul laughed again but this time it was one I hadn't heard in a while, the one that he reserved for the deeply funny, really only ever making an appearance when we were alone and it would only be me catching him letting it loose. "You'll kill me, Maka."

"I won't," I objected strongly but could understand his hesitation, having been Maka-chopped one too many times in his life for lesser offenses.

"You have to _swear_," he held up a pinky, "No chopping, no yelling, no strangling."

I rolled my eyes as if I was never guilty of any of those things before latching my pinky to his. "Swear."

He half sighed, half laughed and took back his hand from the pinky swear to rub across his face, leaving a giant smirk behind. "Right after the stuff on the moon, after we celebrated and things started to get back to whatever is normal for us, you accidentally flashed me."

"_What_?" Accident or no, which I was really eager to find out how _that_ accidentally happened, I was itching to shake him.

He put up his hands in surrender. "You must have thought I wasn't home but I was laying on the couch, headphones on, staring into space, when you walked right past the doorway between the living room and the hallway. You also kind of chose that moment to take off your bra and since you'd already ditched your shirt probably as soon as you came through the door I, well, got to see a lot more than I ever thought I would."

My stomach flipped as I searched for any recollection of that exact moment. I had, on occasion, done that, stripped as soon as I got home but I always yelled for him first, listened for his existence before doing so but he had his headphones on. He must not have heard and I, _fifteen-year-old me_, had apparently given him a show. "Was that all you saw?"

"Well…" I had to hide my face against his chest, the delayed embarrassment of it all. "Look, I know I shouldn't have but you kept going and by the time I turned into the hallway you were just about to the doorway of the bathroom, clothes in hand with nothing on."

I let out a little deflated squeal thinking about the body he must have seen, the fifteen-year-old stick-figure girl with barely anything up top and not much to talk about on the bottom. "_That_? That's what made you… start thinking about me?"

"Maka, you were beautiful." He grasped my shoulders in an attempt to get me to look up. "Fuck, you _are_ beautiful."

I groaned one last breath into his chest before lifting my head to let my eyes trail back up to his. "Maybe now, but then, Soul, come on."

"I'm not lying," Soul laughed back. "I'm telling you, I saw you and it was the last time I cared to look at anybody else. No crushes, no flirting, no comparing. Just you."

I couldn't tell if it was the embarrassment or the new joy that was starting to take hold in my head but it was dizzying. "That's completely impossible."

"About as impossible as you being in love with me." His hand cleared the hair from the side of my face, drifting the rest of the way through in the sweetest caress. It seemed effortless, the way he pushed me to the side, rolling me over so he could pin me against the bed. Something resembling a gasp but trailing into a laugh escaped my throat but was caught by his lips pressing against mine. He toyed with my tongue as I started to get used to the feeling of his weight on me. It took some time for the kissing to finally subside, the need for sleep to overcome the need for each other, but Soul left me without breath and without a doubt that I was the entirety of his wants and his love.


	7. Goodbyes

OK, I guess I'm writing more, haha. I'm terrible at letting a fic go.

* * *

When I came out of the bathroom, freshly showering and newly dressed because I still could not bring myself to parade for him, Soul was sitting on the bed, watching the door. "Waiting for a show?" I smirked playfully but still felt the blush touch my cheeks.

He laughed in reply as he stood slowly from the bed I found myself frozen in place, waiting breathlessly as he walked towards me. Even after waking up tangled in his arms there was still a distinctive surreal feeling to every moment. Something in him had been unlocked, and I guess the same could be said for me, because when we met toe to toe one arm wrapped around my waist while the other dug into my still damp hair, bringing my eagerly waiting lips to his. Hesitation, embarrassment and all the feelings in between had disappeared, leaving just elation and contentment in their place. After what felt like only seconds of that wonderful pressure, Soul parted from me and let his hand settled at the base of my neck. "We should probably call Kid today."

I hated the reality check and was at least comforted by the fact that his face told me the same. "And we'll go home soon," I weakly added.

"Maka," it sounded as if he were scolding me and I had to narrow my eyes at the smirk that followed it. "I told you, it'll be different. No more just _partners_, OK? I actually almost started to hate the word because it wasn't enough. I know it's probably lame but… I guess I want to try out girlfriend, boyfriend."

I tried to cut the glow out of my smile but it barely worked, the sides of my face aching almost instantly. "Significant others? Perhaps you're my gentleman caller?"

"Lame," he rolled his eyes but he pulled me a little tighter.

"Lovers," I murmured as I leaned in to peck at his lip.

"Not yet." To my surprise his hand slipped a little under my shirt, his calloused hands touching the bare skin of the small of my back.

The muscles of my stomach fluttered, remembering the not so subtle promise of when we were alone, sober, and ready. "Soulmates," I whispered.

"That kind of works," he laughed. "Our souls do fit."

"But… I'm your girlfriend?" Again my smile ached and I had to convince myself not to let loose a silly little laugh, afraid he might read it as finding this moment funny instead of the truth that I was completely spellbound.

The pause after that question wasn't thought, it was his lips searching mine again as if he needed to sample that word off my tongue. "As long as you want to be."

"I do."

He stole one more kiss before huffing out a sigh. "Call Kid."

"Yes, sir," I sighed back before laughing at his eye roll in return. I walked back into the still steamy bathroom, scrawling the numbers on the mirror with my finger. Kid was always quick to answer and this time was no different, his face drenched it what could be mistaken for apathy. "Maka and Soul reporting in!" I couldn't stop the sing-song tone to my voice and that placid exterior of Kid's cracked a little, one eyebrow curling upwards.

"Everything alright?"

"Everything's going well," I beamed at my own understatement. _Boyfriend, girlfriend_ pitter-pattered through my heart. "Soul's dad is being transferred Monday, so we should be back then."

Kid nodded solemnly for a moment before letting a sigh leak from his lips. "I'll have to ask you to come back as soon as that's complete. I have something that I think I'll need you and Black Star on. Plan to leave Monday night as soon as you've returned."

"Oh, sure." That elation was faltering and I felt that hateful wave of reality come back again. _From this to a mission, just like that._ "Any information on the target?" There I was, slipping back into DWMA, feeling some of that life draining away from me.

It was Soul's hand that brought a swift and much-needed reminder as his fingers touched my lower back as he slipped into the bathroom. "Target?" he murmured to me, lips almost a little too close to my ear.

"Good timing, Soul," Kid waved nonchalantly. "Another remnant of the madness, unfortunately. A rumor of a clown in Belize."

"Another clown?" Soul groaned.

"What I wouldn't give to never see another clown in my life," I sighed, receiving a grunt of a laugh in reply from Soul.

"Agreed," Kid let out a minute smile before clearing it back to all seriousness. "That's why you'll be teaming up with Black Star. I expect you to take it out quickly."

Soul's voice came at my ear again, "We're leaving now, then?"

"Monday night." I turned my head to answer him, seeing his face so close to mine still managed to produce a blush at the closeness.

"Kid," Soul turned his tentative eyes from mine to the mirror. "You don't have to take it easy on me. If you need us to leave now, we'll leave."

"Monday night should be soon enough," Kid replied sharply as if scolding Soul for even trying. "Just make sure you're taking advantage of the downtime."

The last few words rang in my head like a bell, spurring that little knot in my stomach to start to wind again. "Thank you, Kid," I murmured through the haze of my hopes for the time we had left.

"See you soon." With that his image blanked out, replaced with my own face reflecting back at me, Soul's head bobbing over my shoulder.

"I don't see why he didn't want us to come now," Soul grumbled.

"_Take advantage of the downtime_," I repeated in Kid's tone. "If I didn't know any better I'd think Kid was insinuating something."

I felt his hands first, tentatively touching my hips before wrapping around my waist, pulling my back to his chest so his breath ran across my neck. "I told him I loved you."

"Before you told me?" My complaint came out breathless and weak as the heat that ignited under his fingers tipped my heart into thundering.

"It was way easier," he chuckled. "Though he did call me an idiot just like I had thought you would."

"Why an idiot?"

Soul's grip tightened as he paused to press his lips against my neck, a sensation that lit up every nerve in my body and I was lucky I wanted the answer to my question so badly or else I would have interrupted to beg for it again. "The morning after I was drunk, before we talked about it, I called him to beg for him to call you back. Asked him to find some reason to get you to go back home without me."

His words started to cool me, enough that I was able to resist the urge to stay put. I turned in his arms, seeing the half-smile still pulling at his mouth. "You were pushing me away."

"Told you, that's what I'm good at," Soul shrugged. "He didn't buy it for a second. Told me I had to spill or he'd put us on indefinite leave until I dealt with it myself." One of his hands moved from my waist and moved to grasp at the base of my neck, his fingers delicately running along my jaw. "He said I was an idiot for worrying about it and that pushing you out now was going to do the opposite of what I wanted. He didn't say anything about _taking advantage of the downtime_ but telling you was kind of an order."

"So both our boss and your mother ordered you to be with me," I couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Technically, ordered me to have the guts to _try_ to be with you." He didn't laugh in return, just pulled my chin forward until our lips barely brushed together. "And I was going to tell you, or at least try to until Wes interrupted. Then that whole nerve thing fizzled until you were naked. Really, even that wasn't enough of a hint. Cool guys can be kind of dense, I guess."

"So dense," I kind of wanted to shake him but all I could manage was another laugh.

"I feel like you were supposed to disagree," he muttered before taking away my chance to by capturing my lips again. This one was slow, a little searching, and I let my body sway into him until I had pressed him against the wall of the bathroom. A grunt bubbled from his throat as he pressed my neck just enough to get us to part. "OK, I'm not too proud to admit the taking charge thing really does it for me," his whisper was husky and quick, "And I'm going to need a fucking cold shower before we go downstairs."

There was a boldness in me being fed, gobbling up this idea that I could turn him on, that I wasn't just some_thing_ but someone who he desired. It was the dress all over again and I found myself refusing to budge, focusing on the way his eyes glazed over as I sunk my hand under his shirt. "Is this enough of a hint?"

"Loud and clear," he grumbled as he grasped at my moving hand and kept it in its place. "But you're not being fair. We agreed-"

"To wait," I let my hand fall not with a sigh but a smirk. "Just… wanted to remind you that I'm thinking about it, too. I want to touch you."

Soul's head fell against the wall with an almost delirious laugh. "Believe me, that sentence is going to be etched into my mind for a good long time." I let my fingers just barely graze his skin as he pulled my hand from beneath his shirt. "Borderline cruelty," he hissed.

"Sorry," I couldn't stop the giggle from bubbling up. "I'll just… I'll go downstairs."

His eyes were cooling, that fire starting to burn out over the next set of words, "Don't tell Mom we're leaving yet, OK? I promise I'll talk to her about it."

"Yeah, of course." I took a slow step back, eyeing him for further change and when finding none turned to exit the room. I was about five steps into the bedroom when I heard the shuffle of his feet.

"Maka?" He was peeking his head out of the bathroom.

I couldn't help the amusement on my face at the nervous little smile on his lips. "Yeah?"

"I love you," he seemed to stutter through it before adding, "I can say that, right? It's not too much or…"

I knew I was blushing but laughed anyway. "Yes, whenever you want." I retraced my steps just enough so I could lean to plant a peck on his lips. "I love you, too."

Soul's contented chuckle sent renewed color to my cheeks. "OK, downstairs."

"I'm going." But I was slow, stealing another glance at him just as he did with me, both of us memorizing the satisfaction. I started for the stairs with an extra bounce in my step, my stomach still fluttering away as I tried to steady my pace.

Wes was at the end of the corridor and he paused for me, giving a gentle wave. "I hope you enjoyed yourself last night."

"Ah, yes," and I couldn't control the extra blush that added to that statement.

Wes cleared his throat, words coming slow to tread lightly. "I'm sorry if my mother assumed that you two, well…"

Here I faced a conundrum since was it my news to tell? I wanted to gush, to shout out loud that we were finally on the other side of that borderline we'd toed for years but his relationship with his family was tenuous. "She wasn't wrong."

"Oh… _oh_." Wes seemed to lose any of the rest of his train of thought.

"But I'm sorry if that left you taking care of the house," I tried to save myself from having to further expand. I started with a tentative step down the stairs and Wes followed, seeming to be relieved by the change.

"Mom was well-behaved," Wes chuckled. "But she was dying for the finer details even while the evening was happening, so be ready for interrogation this morning."

"That's why Soul sent me down first," I tried to roll my eyes dramatically but the action collapsed into a joyous laugh.

"That sounds like ecstatic laughter!" Regina chimed while we were still drifting through the hallway and I let her hear it again. As we walked through the doorway Regina was already on the edge of her seat, hands gripping her teacup like a lifeline. "Well?"

"Mom, you have to ask a question first before begging for the answer." Wes motioned me towards the table and busied himself with getting cups before moving to the coffee maker.

Regina released a Soul style smirk at her son before turning her glowing eyes back to me. "Tell me everything about last night."

I couldn't stop the blush from rising on my cheeks and let it throw me into a whole new panic of what she could assume from that. "Well, the club was wonderful," I found my eyes still moving from her to the door, anxiously awaiting the reprieve of Soul. "Did it always have that greenhouse?"

"Oh, since the place opened, yes," Regina nodded through the small details. "Did he show you the lake? Next to the lilacs?"

_Yes, and he kissed me there and it was one of the best moments of my life._ "It was a little dark, but I'm sure it's lovely in the light."

"Soul has the best taste in secret spots," her voice gleamed with a strange sort of pride. "And I think I can vouch that you're the first person he's ever brought there."

Wes arrived at the table, sliding a cup in front of me before settling his hands around his own. I took a slow sip, feeling Regina's eyes still asking for more answers. "I heard it wasn't the first date he's had there, though." Since Soul was not present at the very least he could take the brunt of the conversation.

Confusion crossed Regina's face, tightening her eyebrows before they raised with the memory. "Oh! Phoebe!" Regina unlatched one of her hands from her tea and let it rest on one of mine. "Oh, he hated that night, completely. I was sure he wouldn't talk to me for an entire week afterward." She squeezed my hand, her face completely taken over again by her smile. "But I'm going to assume this one will happily replace that memory."

I was starting to feel that she completely knew what she was doing, that couple hadn't been an assumption of hers but a hope. If Wes hadn't been there, I might have considered asking her, but I was trapped. "It was our best date yet," and I could say that with all honesty but hope in my heart that there would be moments to top it.

"Morning." Soul was slow to amble in, stopping first at his mother to plant a kiss on her cheek before walking past me, running his hand across my shoulders.

"Good morning." Regina waited for her son to take the seat across from me before starting in on him. "Maka has declared that your night last night was your best date yet."

Soul blinked at me for a moment before snorting out a short laugh. "Technically correct."

"Technically?" Regina offered, obviously curious.

Soul planted his elbow on the table, tilting his head so his cheek met the palm of his hand. "Not that many dates to choose from. The whole couple thing is kind of new and with work," he interrupted himself with a shrug, "Dates could be few and far between. But if last night was the best, guess I have some work to do."

My face must have flared red since I could hear Wes smother a laugh. I tried to formulate some words but the heat in my cheeks had gone straight to my head.

Soul suddenly filled the space, bringing me back to myself. "But speaking of work, Mom…" He reached out, offering his open hand to her so that Regina would take it, now forming a chain between the three of us. "Monday after we move Dad, Maka and I are going to have to leave."

"Oh, yes, alright." The color and life seemed to drain from her.

I could see Soul falter and he looked to me, his mouth firmly set. "But, we talked about it," I took over, watching as his lips relaxed. "And Soul and I plan on coming back as often as possible. We're going to aim for at least once a month, full weekend visits." That was technically not exactly what we'd talked about, and I could see some of the skepticism cross Soul's face, but the offer seemed to abate the terror growing on Regina's face.

"It'll depend on work," Soul cautioned, "but we're going to try, Mom. I swear. I'm going to try, OK? I… I love you."

"I love you, too." Regina seemed to reluctantly release my hand and move her second to Soul's, clutching at him desperately. "We're all trying, Soul." Those words didn't come easily for either of them and the determined way they held onto one another made me sure there was weight behind them. I wondered how strange it must feel for Soul going from rarely having those words in his life to offering them twice in the same hour and to different people. When I finally looked at his face I could stop wondering, seeing not that smirk that he hid behind but a vibrant, contented smile. He was starting to be a man sure of what he wanted and what he had.

* * *

Dropping Soul's dad off, saying goodbye to his family, driving home at top speed and sitting through a mission briefing all seemed nothing more than a whirlwind. I tried not to see Kid's sideways glances during the report, those cold, analytical eyes examining each move between Soul and I. While we hadn't expressly talked about it, it seemed like as soon as we stepped foot on DWMA we were just partners again, all those longing glances and tentative touches put aside.

This wasn't a complaint exactly because this was work, but I found myself keenly missing it nonetheless, while my mind in the background calculated how much time it would be before I'd be allowed those new, wonderful behaviors. I had to push all of that aside, listening to the break down of a new enemy and then the subsequent cawing of Black Star about his invincibility and our soon to be victory. All the while Tsubaki sent short, worried glances my way and I started to wonder if it was like a smell on me, that people in the room would just know that I was settled in love now.

Tsubaki held her tongue until we were practically alone on the flight to Belize, Soul far gone with his headphones in his ears and Black Star saturating his own shirt in his drool. "You were gone for a while," Tsubaki started, never with a question that would make you uncomfortable to answer.

"Uh, yeah," I glanced at Soul to see him motionless before continuing. "Soul's dad was in the hospital but they just moved him. He should be fine."

The information was cycling through her mind, her eyebrows furrowing with skepticism. "And he asked you to go with him?"

"Ah," a nervous laugh leaked from my lips. "We both know he doesn't ask."

"So you told," Tsubaki smiled softly. "But he listened?"

"Just barely." I didn't know where to take this conversation, whether to just beam at her and let that part of me go that wanted to scream _he kissed me!_ We hadn't discussed it though, and things still felt so unsettled, that I tried my best to wipe any mystery from my face and smile at her. "It was no big deal, really. Just a little segue from work. A nice reminder we're human, I guess."

"We're human?" Tsubaki mused. "Doesn't feel like that much anymore."

"Rarely." I let my eyes fall on him again, happily finding his eyes lift to half-lidded before blinking open at her, a smirk gracing his lips. _Maybe not so rarely now._


	8. Telling

Fighting wasn't difficult, or really, the fight was difficult but the two of us partnered together, the focus in battle wasn't any different. Again, wrong, not necessarily true because there was a resolution there, a tightness in the binding of our souls that felt indestructible. It was embarrassing, almost shameful, to realize how the walls I had built to surround my own emotions had hindered us. My lucky realization was that hiding things from him never worked, and I started to think he was going through the same thoughts. "It's easier," he murmured to me, and even while transformed I could imagine that smirk on his face.

My hatred of clowns held strong, this one not any more particularly terrifying than the others but time-consuming and arduous. Madness was something we'd all fallen into, me included, and the pull was still terrifying like a tap on your second-story window in the dead of night. Your wonder about it is only tempered by your fear of it. "Let's show them just how easy," I whispered back.

Soul was laughing the whole run up, probably a bit of the madness from his piano strikes for the teamwise resonance, bringing the four of us together with each smash of the keys. It was an exhilarating feeling, not just the far-reaching connection but the amplification of my own Anti-Demon wavelength, pushing the Madness back to a whisper somewhere at the corner of our minds. I couldn't help but embrace the pride, how amazing he was and the range of skill that he'd mastered over the years.

I came in with a high strike, not entirely dismayed as the target moved underneath since I knew Black Star was just behind me, following the opposite of my motion. It was a hit but still stopped Black Star solidly, tossing him back as I flipped over the clown, trying to get the advantage of getting behind. The movement wasn't perfect and I felt the catch of my foot, the reversal of my momentum as it forcefully tossed me back the way I came. I hit the ground and tumbled back, feeling Soul leave my hands as he transformed to block any further rolling. "You good?"

"Stupid mistake," I muttered. "Let's go."

"Yes, ma'am," he sent a smirk my way before transforming back. "Don't make any more of those."

I snorted a laugh in reply, watching the battle unfolding in front of me. Black Star was always good at keeping an enemy busy, zooming across the field as the enemy stood helpless to catch him. I watched the clown plant its feet, looking for the perfect opportunity to grab Black Star just as it had me. Instead, that motionlessness spurred me forward, throwing all my momentum behind Soul. "_Letter 'I' Hunt Slash_!" I was almost sad for the repetition but happily watched as it drove home, missing Black Star as he zipped by to hit the clown, blasting down the center.

"No fair! I was _just_ getting started," Black Star howled.

"Black Star," Tsubaki sighed so loud I could hear her across the field.

"Make sure it's dead, dummy," Soul bellowed.

Black Star went to do as he was told but it was obvious, the body disintegrating to leave behind a soul that wouldn't stay put and sputtered off into ribbons. This was probably my least favorite part of clowns, the complete lack of a reward for hard work. I walked up on Black Star muttering over a bunch of nothing and my own sigh of disappointment added to it. Our weapons transformed back, Tsubaki immediately trying to abate Black Star's discontent while Soul's hand softly brushed down my arm before tangling his fingers in mine. "Lame."

"Absolutely," I sighed. "But at least the job's done."

"Means we get to go home." He squeezed my hand quickly before detaching, turning his attention to Black Star and Tsubaki. "Let's head out."

"Nah, let's camp! Enjoy the night out." Black Star had gotten him in a headlock. "Nothing back at home accept probably another mission."

"And we need a little first aid," Tsubaki motioned towards me.

Regardless of the ease, in the end, I did have a gash on my leg from the roll, a trickling of blood down my leg that I barely even noticed. "Camp it is," Soul muttered as he struggled against Black Star who took more than enough of his time.

Tsubaki rolled her eyes at the regular display, coming over to me and lifting the edge of my skirt to show off the giant bruise that was starting to develop there. "I'll see to Maka…"

"No," Soul barked as he finally broke free, stomping over to me. "I got it."

"There's Mr. Overprotective again," Black Star whistled, earning him a glare from Soul.

Soul got between me and Tsubaki, earning Black Star's name as he motioned for me to sit. "My meister, my problem."

I laughed, sending an eye roll to Tsubaki who simply shook her head. "I'm a problem now?" I plopped to the ground, letting the exhaustion take me. "And who says I can't take care of it myself?"

"Stop arguing," he muttered as he dropped next to me. To my surprise, he grabbed my leg and pulled it across his lap. There seemed to be no embarrassment there for him but I could feel my cheeks burning as his fingers pressed up against my skirt. "Tsubaki, you got the first aid pack?"

"Give me a second!" Tsubaki moved towards the edge of the clearing where we'd left our things, dragging the majority back herself since Black Star couldn't be bothered since he was too busy with his favorite part of camping, the bonfire.

My hand met his as I pulled at the hem of my skirt, bringing it just to the edge of the wound. "Be careful, you can see up my skirt."

"Maybe that's what I want," I wolfish smile ate up his face but there was still a hint of a blush on his cheeks. Of course, it was nowhere near the tomato shade of my cheeks. "Sorry, but consider it payback for the other morning." He brought back his hand a little, giving my fingers space and we stared as we waited for Tsubaki to return. Soul's hand left my thigh entirely as she arrived, holding his hand in the air for her to drop the bag into. "Thanks."

"No problem," she chirped but her eyes fell on me, narrowing a little to send me the '_I'll talk to you later'_ message that I was dreading.

"You didn't tell her," Soul muttered as he searched through the bag. He took out the alcohol and started on the sterile pads.

"You and I didn't… we didn't discuss it and I wasn't sure." I held my breath as he saturated the pad and moved to press it against my thigh, the unpleasant sting forcing the breath between my teeth.

He turned his head away from me, gauging the other two. Tsubaki and Black Star were completely focused on the fire, or Tsubaki intent on Black Star not setting himself on fire in the process of making it. His hand moved along the wound, and he brought his eyes back to make sure he was cleaning carefully. "Do you _want_ to tell them?"

I watched the way he seemed too intent on my leg, on the cleaning that was pretty much already spotless at this point. "There's no reason to keep it a secret, is there?"

He paused, tapping a finger against the unmarred part of my skin. "What about Spirit?"

I laughed but let it taper off, realizing that there was no humor there for him, just eyes focused on the curve of my thigh. "You think he's a problem?"

"He doesn't like me," Soul spat back.

I blinked, trying to process his shortness. Spirit didn't like a waiter if they looked at me too long while taking my order, so no, Soul wasn't exactly his favorite because of the closeness between the two of us, but I lived with a hope that Spirit would man-up as soon as I brought someone home that I cared about. "I'm not sure that's true, but honestly, I don't care." He finally looked up at me, testing out a smile. "I love you, that's what I care about."

The most adorable dreamy sigh broke his lips and I smiled as he leaned towards me. He seemed to read my mind as his hand came to rest on my neck, sliding back to pull me closer. "I don't care if they see," and it was obvious by his force that he didn't. His lips locked with mine, one of those chaste kisses like our first. "I just… I can't hear you say that without needing to."

"I like that compulsion." I patted his chest as my eyes darted back behind him, expecting at least one gaping face behind him but just finding their silhouettes against the flame, backs to us as if we were the epitome of boredom. Then again, maybe we had been before, mundane in the fact that we could always be expected to be too scared to let this happen, let us change.

He cleared his throat, bringing my eyes back to him. "Then we'll tell them, tonight."

"Sure." My answer was enough to get him back to work, moving to the salve, a much better sensation than the burning. He was gentle at spreading the ointment but his other hand was more what I was paying attention to, the fingers splayed across my inner thigh. Looked like he wasn't done paying me back for the other morning, the sensation of the roughness of his palm against skin that no one else had touched created a heat that I wasn't entirely used to, something I only remembered experiencing alone, by myself, in the quiet of the nighttime.

Soul bent my knee slightly, angling it so he could slip the roll of gauze under it. I could see his eyes hesitate, trying to concentrate on the job rather than me. After a few slow circles, he tied it off, running his fingers over the bandage. "There," he murmured.

"Thank you." I took his hands off the bandage and held them in mine, playing with his fingers for a second.

"Aren't you two done yet?" Black Star barked, sending all hands back to their owners.

"Was waiting on you," Soul yelled back as he cleared my leg off his lap so he could stand. On his feet he reached down for me, taking my hands and pulling me to mine. "Leg feel OK?"

"No big deal," I shrugged as I tested out the stretch of the bandage. Soul was always the best at playing battlefield doctor, so the wrap was just snug enough. We walked over to the blaze that Black Star had created, noticing the pot already hanging over. "Dinner?"

I looked at Tsubaki who was rummaging through the supply bag. "Soup or beans?"

"Soup," Black Star answered for me. "I'm not sleeping anywhere near Soul if beans are on the menu."

"Hey," Soul frowned incredulously. "That's my line about _you_. And doesn't matter anyway, I'm sleeping next to Maka."

Tsubaki was the first one to snap to attention at that. "What?"

"Yeah, not into sleeping too far away from her since we got together," that came out a little more bashful than the first admission, his eyes falling on me as the frown turned into that dopey, lovestruck smile he'd started using.

"Together?" Tsubaki's eyes shot to me. "You mean, you two are…?"

"Sorry," I smiled nervously. "I know I should have told you sooner, but-"

Tsubaki zoomed closer, taking my hands in hers as she got close enough for just us to hear. "That trip?"

Meanwhile, Black Star's brain had finally connected all the dots and he almost flat out tackled Soul. "What do you mean you haven't been sleeping alone?"

"That's not what I said!" Soul sputtered.

"There's actually a lot I have to tell you," I murmured to Tsubaki, "between the trip, the date-"

Tsubaki cut me off with an excited shake of my hands. "Date?"

Black Star was shaking Soul, my attention turning to his white hair comically flopping back and forth with each swing. "How did _you_ get a girlfriend before _me?_ A God on Earth!"

"Because he asked," I chimed. "And didn't try to peek at me in the bath."

"That you know of!" Black Star sassed back.

Soul made the shaking stop with a quick palm planted to his face. "Don't insinuate I'm a perv like you!"

"What was this date?" Tsubaki sweetly tried to get me back on track but I was too busy moving to the boys, physically breaking up the fun that was now turning into a spat. She gave up for now, turning back towards dinner and the fire as a welcome distraction. Tsubaki was always the best at biding her time, and I knew the story would be torn from me at the next quiet moment.

After getting both boys to opposite sides of the fire I moved to help her, picking out the dried ingredients as she got the stock going in the pot. "We went out to dinner," I murmured quietly.

"How did that happen?" Tsubaki was politely trying not to be as surprised as she was, keeping her eyebrows in check as they wanted to shoot up her forehead. "Last time we talked you were agonizing about-"

I cut her off before we got the part where we embarrassingly recollected all the panicked things I said about the possibilities for me and Soul. "I know, but it was kind of… being brought together this time was out of both of our control, I think. It helped."

"I don't get it." Tsubaki looked to the stew as if it had answers while I threw some of the last ingredients in. She took a minute to stir before bringing her eyes to me. "You're happy, though?"

"I don't think happy even begins to describe it," I laughed. "That's there, but there's a relief, too, and hope and a million other things that I'm not even sure I can name yet."

She shook her head slightly, turning a coy smile to me. "And you're sleeping together?"

The heat flushed not just my face but my entire body as my stomach flipped at the thought of his hand on my thigh again. "Sleeping _next_ to each other," I corrected quickly with a clearing of my throat. "It's just been sleeping, I swear."

"So far…" Tsubaki added with a swift quirk of her eyebrow, an amused look that I rarely got from her. "Well, sleep _next_ to each other tonight then. Though I'll miss the buffer from Black Star."

"I heard that," Black Star crowed. "You should feel lucky I even camp with you mere mortals!"

Soul sighed as he threw himself back on his elbows, giving himself space between him and the fire. "Yeah, we're all blessed. Can we eat now?"

"Be patient," I cooed back. It was a few more minutes before Tsubaki could ladle some out and I found myself finding stupid things to busy myself with instead of staring at him. He'd just blurted it out, no problem, no argument about what we were and that left me with a heart overwhelmed with exhilaration. I had wanted to kiss him for it, but I didn't have the bravery that he did, not wanted to parade it in front of Tsubaki and Black Star.

There was also a danger to it, being ostentatious because our line of work led to enemies at every corner. Holding hands on the way to battle was nothing more than a message to your enemies that if you hurt that person you hurt me. It's better to look invulnerable, to look like you don't need each other, a lesson I thought I had learned from my parents. Then again, who knows if that was strategy or the cracks that had already formed in their love. That was the wrong line of thinking for the moment, bringing my mood down as my brain started spiraling into how love could fail.

I grabbed our bowls, let Tsubaki fill them, and walked over to him. I lowered the bowl into Soul's hands, getting a grin as my reward for the exertion. "Thanks, Maka."

I hunkered down next to him, setting my bowl in front of me in the dirt before planting my arm behind his back for leverage and leaning in, softly planting my lips against his cheek as he stared at his own food. "You're welcome," I whispered.

The moment lit his face on fire. "What was that?" he sputtered.

"Nothing," a laugh came easily after the words.

"Gross!" Black Star groaned at the two of us from across the campfire as Tsubaki handed him his own bowl. "Where's my kiss?"

Tsubaki heaved a sigh in reply, giving room between her and her meister as she sat. We fell quiet, hunger and the exhaustion of the day catching up with us. It was only the scrapes of the bowl, the clanks of spoons, the rustle of tired bodies moving to find comfort for the soundtrack to our dinner. When everyone finished Soul moved to collect all the dishes, grabbing Black Star by the collar and yanking him to help. They went about washing up as Tsubaki and I arranged the sleeping bags around the fire.

It was always automatic while traveling, boys slept with the boys, girls slept with the girls unless there were solo missions or other conditions. We were now one of those _other conditions_, and I laid his bag next to mine to lay face to face, to allow me to reach out a hand to his chest if the nightmares came. _No, to reach out and touch him if I want to. I can do that now. It's not just the nightmares, remember. It's love._

The boys came back after the cleanup, Soul coming over to inspect my not so hard work of arranging the bags. He stopped, hands shoved in his pockets as he looked between me and the bags. "Not good enough."

"What?" I narrowed my eyes at the criticism.

He chuckled to himself, grating a little on my nerves, as he knelt down and started to unzip his sleeping bag. I didn't offer any help, still annoyed at his suggested I'd done something so easy incorrectly, just watched as he splayed open his sleeping bag before starting to unzip mine. Instead of side by side, he made a sandwich, his on the bottom, mine on top, and a thin blush rose on my cheeks. I had thought about one hand touching, reaching across the divide to him, but anything other than full contact was apparently not good enough for him. "Better," he offered only to himself as he got down and slipped between the bags.

I let my eyes dart around the camp, seeing Tsubaki and Black Star settling into their own sleeping bags not that far away, no words or glances to exchange before bed. I crouched down, lifting my side of the bag for a place to sit. I proceeded to take off my shoes, something Soul was doing as he laid on his back, feet dangling in the air like a fool, enough to make any of the leftover annoyance fall away and a smile replace it. "So I'm never getting my own side of the bed anymore?"

"Nope," he shot back instantly as his hand reached out and caressed my lower back.

I let out a soft sigh before I leaned back into the makeshift bed, my head falling right next to his so I could stare into those wine-colored eyes. "I guess I can learn to live with that."

Soul's arm reached out, hooking my waist and pulling me closer. "How's the leg?"

"Fine," I murmured, feeling like the question and its answer was useless, just filler to keep from kissing me. At least that was where my mind was at, my eyes darting from his eyes to his lips as he lessened the space between us.

"Good." His fingers ran the length of the bandage before reaching skin, making that muscles of my stomach flutter. "I hope… telling them wasn't so bad, right?"

"You definitely had no problem," I laughed softly. "And I can promise Tsubaki's not going to let me get off so easily. She's politely waiting, I can promise you, but when we get home and she tells Liz… I'm done for. I'll be dragged off until every last detail is spilled."

He frowned, those fingers dizzyingly drifting along the edge of the bandage. "Another step before we're at home together."

"Unfortunately." I sighed before letting my hand drift from down his arm to catch those teasing fingers against my leg. "You're torturing me."

That dissolved his frown, letting the smile I craved to see return to his face. "Sorry, I know I shouldn't I just… sorry." His hand, now innocent, moved to lay over my waist, no longer intent on toying with me. "I guess the sooner we go to sleep the sooner we're out of here."

"True, but…" I inched my face closer, unable to stop myself from being drawn in, from falling victim to the lure of kissing him. He let me linger there, his grip tightening on my waist.

"Are you two making out?" Black Star's yell cut through the darkness.

Instantly everything was dampened as he let out a discontented grunt across my lips before turning his head to the sky. "Shut up! It was one goodnight kiss. Just because you're jealous-"

"Of kissing Maka? Gross!"

Soul started to sit up, "That's it-"

"Let it go," I laughed as I grasped his shirt. "Remember, sleeping gets us closer to home, right? Not starting a late-night fight with Black Star."

He let out a disgruntled huff before slipping back next to me, this time taking his usual spot of hiding his face in the crook of my neck, his arm back to wrap around my waist. "Good night," he breathed across my throat.

"Good night," I sighed, sure that it wouldn't be. Sleep wouldn't come to me, mostly because of the mission and being in a bed that wasn't mine but also because of the heat of his breath and touch, that creeping feeling starting in my stomach again. It felt dangerous, the need to balance the emotional change between us and the soon to be physical. These hinting touches, the fiery urges weren't just mine. I wondered if it would all settle if this would become ordinary once we had finally experienced what being alone together was like.

This had my mind racing, the thought of what I even meant by _alone together_ and if I even knew what I had planned to do the other night when I let him take my dress off. Was it sex? Was it whatever you might call the step before sex, the touching, the exploring but not the entirety of it? He turned me on but that didn't necessarily mean I was actually ready for any of it and-

"Maka," he whispered against my neck. "Relax. I know it's hard for you to sleep but at least stop thinking. I can practically feel you thinking." His fingers went from my side to my arm, drifting down until he could touch my hand to squeeze it. "Whatever it is, we'll talk about it tomorrow, at home, without that idiot over there listening for every little thing. OK?"

I finally felt like I could breathe again. "We have a lot on our plate for tomorrow."

There was a pause as he shifted his head to kiss against my neck, breathing a sigh across the same spot. "I'll do whatever I have to to make you happy."


	9. A Precipice

Like most of my fics, we're moving towards adult behavior. This just gets only a little scandalous, but get ready.

* * *

It was another whirlwind from mission to home base, my predictions coming true as the debrief quickly turned into sideways stares from all of the other females in the room. How Tsubaki had transmitted the information was beyond me but the mental link was formed and Liz and Pattie had joined in the silent interrogation, waiting for Kid to stop his summary of all things that weren't Soul-Maka related. As the last syllable left Kid's mouth, Liz's hand clasped on my wrist, yanking me like a ragdoll to their secret group that was already forming. "Maka Albarn!"

"OK," I caved before the threat even came, lifting my other hand in defeat. "Can we at least get coffee while you all berate me?"

"Oh, and pastries!" Pattie threw her arms around my shoulders, rocking me on my feet but at least eliciting a laugh.

Liz shrugged before waving towards our last straggler. "Tsubaki, let's go."

With all the waiting for Tsubaki, who was still struggling against Black Star's latest issue, I managed to slip from Pattie. "Give me a minute," I threw over my shoulder before moving back to Soul. "Told you."

"Yeah." He tentatively reached out a hand, starting with a grasp at my shirt that turned into a slide down my arm to finish with his fingers tangled in mine. "I'll wait for you at home, I guess."

"No boys club meeting about the big news?" I smirked.

Soul threw a glance between Black Star and Kid. "They know. That's all they need."

"Want to trade?" My look back at the girls offered me nothing more than Liz tapping at her wrist like time was flying so I brought my gaze back to Soul, feeling my breath leave me at the new stare I was getting.

His eyes were roaming over my face but there was contentment there, this settled ease that was usually just cool apathy. "Just… don't be too long, OK?"

"I won't."

He squeezed my hand before releasing it.

"Kiss him and let's go!" Liz blared from behind me.

"Shut up, Liz," Soul practically yelped, the color rising in his cheeks. "PDA is so-" the words stuck to his tongue as I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his cheek. "... Lame," he finished as a murmur. The color was blazing now and he tried to reach for me but I turned away with rushed steps back to the girls.

The giggles were enough to tell me I didn't have to look back, just imagining the dumbstruck Soul shuffling in his shoes until his brain came back online. It felt a little cruel, but it was payback for that easy way he'd let the news spill from his lips before. If he could be brave and show it in words I could at least follow in actions.

To my relief, the focus stayed off of me for the walk, just the normal ins-and-outs of our conversations, the hum of everyday news. That lasted until I had my coffee in hand and my ass hit the seat. "When did you start hating us?" Liz poked an accusing finger my way.

"What?" I blinked innocently over the brim of my cup, blowing on the molten liquid.

Liz narrowed her eyes, giving me about as much forgiveness as she would a kishin. "Maka, you go away with him? Go on a date? Sleep in the same bed as him? Why did we not get the play by play?"

"And how did this just happen?" Tsubaki added to the list of grievances. "Last time you said anything it was to complain he was pulling away and you had no resolve to do anything about it!"

My pride bristled as if it deserved to but I couldn't argue. "So… we've been sleeping in the same bed for a while."

"What?" Liz turned every head in the shop before she reined herself in. "But you weren't _together_ together?"

I let my finger trace the lip of my cup, my eyes drifting gutlessly away. "It was the nightmares for him. I was just soothing, not anything else."

"And that dummy didn't read that clear sign?" Pattie sighed, "Dense."

"Soul's density is not in question here," Liz added another wag of that finger. "But was this actually a vacation?"

"No." I could bring my eyes up, this part of the story steady. "His dad had a stroke. You should have seen him, he was so vulnerable."

"And you took advantage of him in his sensitive state," Pattie raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"I…" The coffee served as an excuse to gather my thoughts, to decide on what truths would cross the table. "It was his mother's idea to go on a date."

"Oh, what is his mother like?" Tsubaki leaned in, always the one interested in the full picture.

"That's so not important," Liz interrupted. "He actually took you on a date?"

"I liked her, maybe a little overbearing, but kind," I added just for Tsubaki, getting an eye roll from Liz in return. "And, yes, we went to dinner and then he, well, kind of walked me to a lake and actually picked me a flower and…" The color was burning in my cheeks and I couldn't help the dreamy little sigh that parted my lips instead of words.

"And…?" Liz demanded.

I leaned on my elbow, using my hand to cover one of my blush painted cheeks. "We kissed."

Tsubaki's hands shot across the table, grasping at my elbow. "He kissed you?"

"I kissed him, but he caught on," I hid my aching grin behind the edge of my cup. There was an obligatory squeal from the group, the echoing of my own joy. I took another long sip, buying myself time for the next thought. Of course, it drifted back to the agony of last night, the dangerous considerations of what I'd meant to do with my body. I could absolutely table it here, offer the idea to them and get honest opinions but it was the end of the night that kept my lips pursed together. Whatever it was, I was supposed to be talking to Soul, the person who knew me often better than I knew myself, my best friend and partner. Every other word after that was swift, short, to the point, giving enough to grant me my freedom and nothing more.

* * *

I found him lounging on his bed, headphones on and a foot pumping to whatever tune. He was busy enough that I could manage a shower so I didn't bother to rouse him, just going about the regular hygiene routine. It was a relief to strip away the mission grime and I took my time on each curve and rough spot. Each time my hand came to my skin I thought about the possibility that he would be the next one to touch there, spurring on a temping excitement. I couldn't deny that my first instinct was to let him.

The wandering thoughts followed me out of the shower and into my room, springing up here and there as I slipped on my t-shirt and shorts. I started twisting my damp hair into a braid as I slowly moved back across the hall, finding him exactly as I left him, foot still waving. I knew it was pointless to call for him so instead I grasped his toe on the next revolution, laughing at the way he jumped to attention, swatting away his headphones. "Hey," I managed through my giggling.

"When did you get home?" There was his usual grumpy grumble, the normal reaction from being ripped from his revelry.

"Just long enough to shower." I took another tentative step closer and he sat up to lessen the space, his one hand reaching out and touching at the hem of my shirt. One more step and his hand solidified against my hip. "I, um…"

"You wanted to talk," he murmured as he pulled me another step forward before moving over on his bed, clearing his side for me. "How did it go with the girls?"

I eased myself next to him, my back straight against the backboard of his bed. Soul, always the cool guy, fluffed his pillow and fell back into it, rolled on his side to face me. "They got the story that they wanted from me."

A smirk spread across his lips. "Is it still safe to show my face?"

"Well, I told them I kissed you, so there may be some teasing." I could manage mostly to mirror his smile, the thudding if my heart slowly easing.

His hand came up and slid down my arm, finding its home with his fingers tangled in mine. "Was that part of what you were worried about last night?"

"Last night…" I started but tripped over a sigh, his hand squeezing mine. "Soul, if I got naked now, what would you do?"

Soul choked on the air in his throat, letting out a shaky laugh. "That's… Maka, I would do whatever you wanted me to do." He used his free hand to cover his face for a second, another spurt of laughter leaving his lips. "Look, I'm still surprised by the fact you let me _kiss_ you let alone do anything else."

"But I kind of… I don't know. I was ready to push you."

"Yeah, in a do-or-die moment when you were kind of drunk," Soul shrugged. "That's why I wasn't too into it happening that way." He repositioned himself, sitting up a little more to come face to face with me. "If you want to," he faltered here, trying desperately to stop himself from hard swallowing and failing, "Well, if you want to have sex, we can try that, or you want to just, I don't know, try touching each other for a while or, hell, you want to just kiss, I don't care. We'll start and stop wherever, whenever, just… you love me, right? That's not one of those things you panicked about last night?"

"Soul…" I rolled over, pressing him back into his pillow as I settled my body on top of his. Our hands parted and he moved to hold me tightly around the middle as if I were a flight risk. "I didn't doubt that for a second."

His whisper came right next to my ear but it was still muted as if barely a breath fed it. "I was afraid you'd changed your mind. Like maybe being at my house was some fantasy but coming back here made it too real."

I laughed, sinking a further into him as my face hid against the crook of his neck. "It all still kind of feels like a dream, but I don't want to wake up." Tentatively I let my lips press to the skin in front of them, feeling the hitch of breath in his throat that the kiss created.

"Do that again," he murmured.

"What are you going to do?" I breathed out against his neck, considering his request and how true I'd stay to the original. "And try not to say whatever I want."

"But I _want _to do what you want," it was a breathy, short complaint. Regardless his hands moved without instruction, slipping under my shirt and gliding up the bare skin of my back. "At least tell me it feels good."

"Better than good." I littered a few more kisses along the cord of muscle in his neck, feeling his fingers flex into my flesh in response to each one. His hand slowed as it rounded my hip, running along my side until it planted, hesitantly running a thumb along my stomach just below my breast. The only answer I could give was to nip at his skin.

He tried to catch the groan in his throat but it was too late. "Shit," Soul let a laugh trickle after it, "That's not fair."

I lifted my head slowly, an amused smile stretched across my lips. "Why?"

"You're supposed to make that noise first," he grinned back. The indecision was gone from his fingers as he smoothed them over my breast, that trailing thumb brushing over the peak.

There was absolutely no way I could play coy, hold back the sound that he wanted as it slid smoothly from my throat, overwhelmed by the heat his touch had created. He swallowed the end of my moan, his tongue languishing against mine. This was the first precipice, right? Those bases that kids talked about: first achieved after our first date and now second just because we were finally allowed to be alone. That thought struck me as funny, as so strangely normal in a life that had been anything but. We'd just killed a supernatural being but I was more concerned over whether or not his hand would do anything to release the pressure he was creating.

I parted us, resting my legs at his sides to straddle him before bringing myself up to sit. He only had the time to prop himself on his elbows to try to get close to meeting me before I tugged off my shirt, throwing it absently to the side. The momentary shock and awe I created, that adorable dumbfounded look on his face, was something I wanted to treasure almost as much as his touch. "Take yours off," I murmured as I got my hands under the hem of his shirt.

"Yeah, OK," he was still blinking, still blushing as his eyes looked over me again. He was a bit slower as if the struggle with his thoughts ruined the fluidity of a task he'd completed a million times. After finally tossing his aside, he grabbed at me, pulling me tightly to his chest and bringing me back down on top of him as he fell onto his back. I was surprised by the pause, the just holding on as his hands had been so eagerly searching just a minute ago. "Maka, this is going to sound so lame," he murmured as his hands started roaming my back again, calloused fingertips skating across my skin perfectly, "but this is… you against me, it's perfect."

I only brought my head up slightly, still leaving most of my chest pressed against his. I just had to see his face, had to let him see my amused smile. "If that's lame, what's the cool thing to say?"

Soul laughed huskily, "I don't think it's possible for me to be cool with your shirt off. And you came in here with no bra on?" He whistled low, letting it trickle off into a laugh. "Yeah, coolness is out the window. I feel… fuck, like a nervous kid right now. Like it's the first kiss and we're about to clank teeth."

"I don't think we will," I whispered as I leaned back in, his lips smooth and gentle against mine. This was a good place to linger, to let his rough hands explore my soft skin. We did that for most of the night, touching and feeling each other's warmth, again sitting on the edge and looking at a sheer drop. As we tried to sleep that night, both of us still seeming restless for obvious reasons, I could only weigh that against the nervousness of the next step. As he slowly fell asleep, his usual spot occupied and his breath heating my neck, I was starting to think that fall looked pretty good.


	10. Just Ask

A woefully short update but I wanted to make sure you didn't think I'd forgotten about you!

* * *

That weekend, we met Regina at Arthur's rehab, a place that looked more like a rolling estate than a hospital. I talked Soul into buying flowers, something he'd huffed at but eventually agreed on and for the most part, the trip was nothing more than an easy drive. He made me stop at a convenience store, coming back with two cups as if he actually enjoyed gas station coffee. I let him be quiet about any other motives since he'd been thoughtful since the morning since I proposed this little trip to begin with.

Regina was waiting outside, waving as soon as I slipped out of the car. Soul was slow to get out and I waited for him mostly for the view since Soul had forced himself into an almost completely different skin, khakis and a blazer over a band collared shirt. Seeing him dress this morning was amazing, more so because I had no idea he actually owned such outfits but also because he let me, watching him from boxers to finished product. He didn't say a word, just sported a cheesy grin as I blushed into my hands.

"Don't forget the flowers," I murmured, seeing that default, produced annoyance crossing his face. Why he had to fake being grumpy in the face of social niceties I'll never know, but there he was, faking his scowl long enough to reach back into the car and produce the bouquet.

As if he needed to be more adorable today he perked up almost immediately as Regina walked up to us, offering her soft eyes and a wide smile before displaying the flowers for her approval.

"Soul!" There was that pleased undulation to her voice as she clutched the flowers to her chest but still grasped his chin to pull his cheek close enough for a kiss.

"Totally Maka's idea, Mom," he chuckled away any more compliments from her.

"The outfit, too?" She touched his lapel before raising eyebrows at me.

I raised my hand in innocence before he smirked back, "No, but I'm taking her out tonight so I had to look the part."

That left me blinking since while I had copied his style, pulling one of the few dresses from my closet, there hadn't even been a second's mention of the reasoning behind our dapper looks.

Regina's smile at this point had blossomed to glowing. "Another date? Did you need reservations or…?"

"All taken care of," Soul sent a playful glance my way, that smirk exploding on his face. "Can't say anymore though or there goes the surprise." Soul took her elbow, turning her back towards the building and leaving me enveloped in pleasant confusion. Regina turned, reaching out her hand to me and I jogged to catch up, taking a tentative grip of her fingers.

"How have you been, darling?" The question came to me, her eyes shining with that motherly adoration that I almost couldn't stand. It was a fight with myself to enjoy it.

"Busy," I put on a good show of a sigh but it was hard to be exasperated with her fingers tight around mine. "We were traveling and even at home it feels like all we get to do is train."

Soul snorted out a laugh, "But still good, Mom." He made sure to focus that smile on me for a moment. "Life's really good."

"A comfort to hear…" Regina looked from him to me, raising her eyebrows again in a soft question at her son's behavior as if I knew anything better. This Soul was a complete turn from the one I'd driven here in the car, and the fun that he seemed to be having was absurd.

"How's Dad?" Soul tugged her attention back as a modicum of seriousness came back to his face.

"Well, his speech is completely back," Regina's voice started strong but wavered slightly. "The fine motor control has been a little of a struggle for him, though. He's trying not to be disheartened."

"No big deal," Soul squeezed his hand at her elbow. "Dad's always been better at talking anyway."

Regina tried to offer a soft smile in agreement as we breached the doors to the hallway of Arthur's room.

I tried to remember Soul's words and instead of reaching through our skin contact I leaned towards her and whispered, "How have you been holding up?"

"It's strange to not have your husband at home," Regina sighed. "You miss even the simplest things."

I tried to imagine an apartment without Soul, the idea that I would have to see him separately from my everyday existence making it almost feel hard to breathe. Even with the imaginary quality of the terror I felt it hard to comfort her. "He'll be home soon, right?"

"I'm practically counting down the hours!" With that Regina dropped her touch from both of us, using her hands to open the door to Arthur's room.

It was a surprise to see him standing at the window, a person I'd only ever seen lounging in a bed. He was tall and slender, just like Wes but with a surprisingly dark head of almost pitch black hair, hints of white sticking out at his temples. The boys obviously had his form but their mother's coloring since his eyes were a soft grey that in some lights had a hint of blue. "Soul," Arthur seemed genuinely surprised, though the happiness in his voice was still evident.

"Hey, Dad." It was surprising to see the lack of hesitation, the smooth step to his father, the ease that he wrapped his arms around him. I guess the hospital bed had kept them from this before but it was unrestrained now, the two holding onto each other in a shaky embrace. "I, uh, brought you something." Soul detached from him, bringing one hand to his face to wipe at his eyes, a poor attempt at covering the tears that he'd begrudgingly let fall down his cheeks, while the other reached into his pocket to produce, of all things, a _Payday_ candy bar.

Arthur let out a comfortable chuckle before waving me over. "When Soul was little, we used to share one of these every time I came home." He unwrapped it, taking the second piece and handing it to Soul. "Regina, would you like some?"

"No, that's a tradition for the two of you," Regina smiled as she sat down in the armchair next to the bed, watching her husband carefully as if that candy bar was a Master's thesis.

Arthur put the candy bar to his lips, taking a bite as he rested a gentle hand on Soul's head, smoothing back his hair in a way I assumed he'd done since Soul was a child. To watch Soul melt, to see him give in to the touch and relish it, the candy bar almost forgotten in his fingers as he was transported to another time, made my heart fill to the brim. I've heard others called him cold, something I quickly learned to be a misconception, but to watch him now was closer to a revelation. He'd hidden his love under so many layers of hurt that finding it had taken until now until he was a man in his mid-twenties still longing to be his father's and his mother's son.

"Thank you for remembering," Arthur whispered to him before letting his hand fall back to his side.

Soul had to rub at his cheeks again before clearing his throat. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Arthur sighed before moving past the two of us back to the bed. "And honestly a little bored. They won't let me do any work here, and while your mother is fine company…" He offered a shrug before easing himself down to sit.

"Just another week, right?" I tried to chime happily and was rewarded with Soul's arm around my waist, pulling me next to him as he finally started on his half of the candy.

"Not soon enough." Arthur leaned back, eyeing me for a moment. "Maka, right? I apologize, the last time we met, well, I wasn't exactly at my best."

"Oh, please," I tried to wave off the apology. "Don't worry about it, I'm just-" I cut myself off, about to downgrade myself to _just his partner_, nothing significant even though the past week had been littered with significance as Soul had girlfriended me around school and took his time to prove that connection at home. "I'm just glad you're feeling better."

"Still ashamed of myself. Not every day my boy comes home, let alone brings his girlfriend with him." Arthur motioned for us to move towards the bed and we obeyed, my eyes glancing between a beaming Regina and a still residually tearful Soul. "You actually remind me of Regina when she was that age."

"Dad," Soul snapped out of the bliss just long enough to complain at the comparison.

"Hey, your mother was, is beautiful. It's a compliment." Arthur risked a smile at Regina who returned it as a smirk, slowly moving from the chair to the side of his bed so she could rest a hand on his arm. "When your mother and I met I was just as quiet as you were, too."

"I had to ask him out," Regina sighed as she fixed Arthur's hair, brushing it off his forehead.

Arthur laughed, grabbing at her hand to stop it's fiddling and bring it to his chest to press there. "It helped that I'd been pining over her for a couple of months."

I leaned into Soul, whispering to him, "Like father, like son."

He blew out a huff of air, a thin pink coming to his cheeks. "You didn't ask me out," he muttered.

"Technically, I did." My fingers found his hand on my hip, running over them gently. "And don't tell me you didn't pine."

Soul let a soft chuckle leave his lips before flexing his fingers into my hip. "I guess I'll take the comparison." He brought his attention back to his parents even though it was unnecessary, Regina still fiddling over Arthur as he basked in the attention. It seemed like love was soaking in from every angle, whether it be between the two of them or the two of us, or the myriad of little moments between father and son, mother and son as the afternoon dragged on. We all ended up crowding the bed, listening carefully as histories were recounted, more so for Arthur and Regina but even a few tales about us, about the Soul that they missed along the way.

The hours marched along until the light had started to dwindle from the windows. I was surprised by Soul's hand on my face, a quick but soft touch to snap my attention back to him. "We have a date to go on," he murmured, moving that hand to start pushing me off the bed. "Mom, Dad, we have to go."

"Will you be staying at the house tonight?" Regina offered hopefully.

"If that's what you want, Mom." Soul tried to sew as much desire into that as he could, taking the time to walk around the bed and pull his mother into a hug that was now becoming well-practiced, smooth and sincere.

"Please," it had a needless begging quality as she clung to him. "Just let yourself in and I'll see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning." He detached from her and reached his hand out for his father, less of a shake and more of a grab, one more soft touch before they parted.

"Goodbye, Regina, Arthur," I waved softly as I heard their goodbyes in return. Soul ushered me out of the room, a firm hand pressed to my lower back as he seemed to hustle me through the hallway. I waited to definitely be out of earshot of the room before turning a quizzical glance at him. "Who are you, and what have you done with Soul?"

He snorted a laugh before opening the front door for me, waving me through. "OK, sort of deserve that, I guess."

"Sort of? You cried, you hugged your dad and your mom like it's old news, and you've got some secretive date planned for me that I guess I should have suspected because you decided to look like a GQ model today." I picked at his blazer before he playfully batted away my hand. "This is like alternate reality Soul. Next, you'll tell me you appreciate my taste in music."

"Oh, no, never," he shook his head firmly before lowering himself into the car, waiting for me to climb into the driver's seat before continuing, "Yeah, it's weird." He grabbed my hand off the steering wheel, pressing it to his chest. "But it's… Maka, this thing with you, all I had to do was be open about what I wanted, right? I told you, I asked for it, and I got it."

I blinked, trying to follow his logic. "Well, it helped that I was in love with you, but, yes, if we're going to boil it down to the simplest form: you asked, you got what you wanted."

"I just…" He laughed while he thumped my hand against his chest. "What if I just keep doing that? Making it simple? I show my dad, my mom that I love them and I get it back, right? I show you that I love you and I get it back."

It was by far the cleanest argument and while I could say there would be times where that philosophy might not work, it was overall what I'd wished for him all along. He was free of the quiet, the forced solitude of keeping everything to himself as a secret. "So what love am I getting today?"

The grin exploded on his face before he pointed up the end of the driveway. "First, you're going to make a left."


	11. Quiet

Finally a HUGE, well-deserved update. I almost was thinking this would be the end but maybe one more chapter just to round out the smut. Get ready for **sexual content** ahead! (Also, as a complete side-note, writing sex in the first person is WEIRD.)

* * *

I was convinced I'd died on the way to the rehab and this was all some kind of happy afterlife, a reward for all my hard work. Somehow I'd been distracted enough that he'd packed and hidden overnight bags for us, a feat that should have been impossible but he had insisted on renting a car instead of borrowing Spirit's again, and he had picked up the car, leaving him ample time for this kind of scheme. Between his directions I spent the time picking apart his deceptions of the day, finding myself more and more bewildered by this alternate Soul, new philosophies or not.

After many lefts, rights, and things in between he got us into a parking garage. Obviously, this wasn't the most romantic of starts, but as soon as we got out of the car I found myself grabbing at his coat, getting enough of a grip on him that I could pull him back to me, pressing my lips against his in an attempt to make him as dizzy as the realization of this evening had made me.

"Wow," he murmured before clearing his throat, trying to recapture any of his cool guy act. "I, uh," he stammered through to a breathy laugh, his hands slipping to my waist, burning his fingers into my hips. "The night hasn't even started, Maka."

"And you've already swept me off my feet, dummy." I smoothed his shirt before patting his chest, forcing us apart. "But I guess that was just saying I'm looking forward to the rest."

"Me, too." That goofy smile was back as he clutched my hand, leading me towards the dingy stairwell. The closed space made me wish for nothing more than the fresh scent of the night air and non-fluorescent lighting. With all his excited tugged we were out in no time, cutting through a bustling street of people to a row of restaurants that all looked too hip for their own goods. Each window came with the wonder if this would be the place, and each got the answer of '_no'_ as his feet kept beating the pavement.

Soul turned into an alley, pulling me with him into the narrow corridor that led to a less flashy side street. At the end was another quick cut to the right, moving down a set of stairs to an entrance almost completely obscured from the view of the road. A sign hung in the wall of the cement drop, '_The Backpage Speakeasy,'_ and I had no time to question it as Soul brought me straight through the door.

I suddenly found myself in that scene from _Beauty and the Beast_ where Belle finally finds his library, all awe as she absorbs the sight of wall-to-wall bookshelves. The entirety of the bar, besides the actual part that housed the liquor, was lined with books, too many titles for me to even peruse and consider in a lifetime. Couples dotted tables arranged across the floor and my eyes followed them until I found the staircase, one of those circular ones that rotated up to a second floor that was more books sandwiching booths.

Soul was already leaning over the bar, sharing a few words and a soft laugh with the bartender before turning back to me. "Upstairs?"

I didn't even need to answer, my eyes glowing with enough wonder that he just took my hand, tugging me towards the spiral. The metal was cool beneath my fingers but my heart was burning with the idea that this was all for me. When we got to the table, wrapped almost completely in books, he tried to just put a cool hand to the small of my back and move me into my seat. Instead of going straight to squeezing in the booth, I threw my arms around his neck, hugging him as tightly as I could.

He faked a choke before letting his arms wrap around my waist. "Guess I'm doing it right?"

A wonderfully fulfilling laugh bubbled from my throat. "Too right." I pulled away, letting my hands fall to his shoulder. "You're setting a dangerous precedent."

"That's fine." Soul paused, eyes searching mine as a soft hand snuck up to touch my cheek. "Just giving you what you deserve."

My cheeks started to burn as I bit at my lip. "That's borderline sappy."

Soul scoffed before he started to push me back towards the booth. "Way beyond borderline. Almost lame. Not even sure I have retained any coolness after that."

"I'll pretend it didn't happen." I sunk into the booth, feeling him follow immediately as his hand never seemed to leave my waist. As we finally settled he did give me enough space, his arm resting over the back of the booth in my direction. The edges had been purposefully made low so that the bookshelves behind were accessible, but Soul was more interested in being within reach of at least one or two tendrils of my hair that he coiled and uncoiled from his fingertip. "Does this mean we get to read at the dinner table?" This had been outlawed at our apartment for a few years and I had always blamed it on the spills.

"No," that came with a firm shake of his head. "I hated when you did that. I…" Soul paused a moment to laugh at himself, his eyes focused on his lap. "I talked you into that rule because I liked it better when you talked to me. If you don't have a book, you're a real chatterbox at the table and it was kind of one of the only places I had all of your attention."

A simple, small discovery like that floored me. It was the fact that the rule seemed so old in the timeline of our lives but it was one of those early hints that I should have realized. He wanted my attention, and not just any kind of attention but the entirety of it. "You said it was because I made a mess every time," I tried to tease back but it felt breathless.

"That, too," he snorted another laugh, "But by that time I was already holding on to a pretty big crush and I'd take what I could get."

_Big crush_! I should have laughed at that but I was swooning instead, blaming it on all the newness and elation from our change. "If your _pretty big crush_ is out in the open now, doesn't that mean I can have my reading back?"

"You read practically all of the rest of the time," he grumbled. "And _no_, the answer is a solid no." Soul leaned in, his lips so close to my ear that I could feel his breath. "I still want all of your attention."

"Can't have all of it," I cooed back. "You can have the majority, maybe, if you're good."

"Best behavior, then." His smirk appeared as he gave me space again, his back resting against the booth.

I let my focus fall to the menu, happy to see the regular bar fare that screamed that our standard of dress hadn't exactly been necessary. The first obligatory question from a waiter was 'drinks?' and ours was no different, but I found myself shaking my head firmly, passing off to a Soul who simply shrugged and mimicked just without as much conviction. "If you're worried about driving, I can get us home," he offered.

"No, I'm fine," but my voice betrayed my preoccupied mind. Every step here, each little word and memory he offered was growing that urge to touch him, to be touched and while part of me was sure we were heading back to his mother's house for another night just like after our first day, I wanted to hedge my bets on the idea that if I could get rid of two out of three of his reservations from that night, maybe I could…

"What's going on in your head?" he murmured.

While I was sure part of him would be overjoyed to hear the reply '_My mind is skipping to the part where we're in bed tonight,'_ I didn't exactly want to put that into words at the dinner table. "It's really fine, Soul, I swear." I displayed innocent hands in the air, watching as the action only produced a frown on his face. "Promise, pinky swear, cross my heart." I leaned in, planting a convincing kiss against the line of his lips.

"You haven't lied to me before," he whispered.

I drifted my head back enough to catch the concern in his eyes, purposefully honing in on them with my own before offering a smile. "And I'm not starting now."

"OK." His skepticism was palpable, but it was enough to get him to ease back in the seat and continue his regularly scheduled pining.

Soul eventually fell back into the comfort of it, interjecting his usual little quips as I lived up to my name of being the chattiest person to ever grace a table. I made sure to pay him back for his admission, showering him with all the attention I could possibly gather, even between bites of our meal. I should have known that refusing dessert was going to get me the same concerned look but I couldn't help it. Again, to be sluggishly full might put a damper on whatever it was I wanted to happen, which was still a rolling argument in my mind.

Even though I wanted to stay, peruse the book titles and just generally sit in the wonder of what was our first Soul-created date, I wasn't hesitant to push us out the door and back to the street as soon as the check had been settled. I could see him processing the rush, his own concerned thoughts starting to churn in his skull. As we turned in the alleyway to cut back to the main street, I grabbed at his jacket, pulling him to a stop and making him turn towards me. He was throwing this questioning look at me but I didn't see it for long as I pressed my body against his while my lips starting a searching kiss as soon they met his.

I wondered if his mind was that far from mine as his one hand dug into my hair while the other dipped dangerously to the small of my back, adding pressure to the touch of our bodies. Our lips parted but we were still firmly tangled, his back pressing into the wall. A teasing smile eased across his face, "Maka Albarn, in an alleyway-"

"Shush," I cut him off. "You wanted to know what I was thinking about before, didn't you?"

"Huh," he chuckled to himself. "I think this is the part where I say, 'Who are you and what have you done with Maka Albarn?'"

"What?" I snapped. "I can be…" I rolled my eyes to the side, trying to let them insinuate the words.

"Oh, say it, Maka," he continued to let the laughs roll off his tongue. "I _definitely_ want to hear this."

"I was just looking forward to _tonight_, after dinner," I managed to stutter out as I felt the heat lighting up my cheeks.

"No, say the word," he cooed. "You're…"

"I won't!" It was impossible, definitely not that childish word that only deserved to come from the boys' locker room or a porno.

"Come on." He surprised me not just with the playfulness in his voice but the way his hand slid smoothly from the small of my back to the curve of my butt, renewing the pressure between the two of us. "That makes you feel…" his whisper was throaty, sending an extra chill down my spine.

I let out a withering sigh, "I'm turned on."

"Close," he smirked.

"No."

"Yes." I was sure that locking eyes with him would defeat that grin and get me out of saying it. He let me stare for almost a full minute before he laughed and released the pressure, letting his hand slide down my arms as he got himself away from the wall. Even if he let me out of the confrontation, that dastardly smirk still tore at each corner of his mouth. I thought he would offer me another smart quip but he just started the walk again in complete and total silence.

Why should I have to say it? It was immature! And these feelings were mature, weren't they? I just wanted him to rip off my clothes, hold me down, and swallow me whole, that was all, right? I let out a weak sigh which only brought me another view of his smirk as he looked back. I had nothing more to add and he only fed his smile as he walked me back into the parking garage and to the car. As I sat back in the driver's seat, Soul threw himself into the passenger, letting that devious grin shine at me as our eyes met.

I slammed the door shut, put my hands on the steering wheel and clutched it tightly. "I'm horny."

He erupted into deep, throaty laughter, his hands clutching at his stomach like it was going to explode.

"I hate you," I hissed.

"No, no, no," Soul was clearing the tears from his eyes as his laughs barely died down. "Take that back."

"Fine." I half-heartedly punched him in the shoulder, watching as he rocked dramatically. "I love you, but you're annoying."

"Yes, but I got you to say a word I never even thought was in your vocabulary," he let a few last laughs trickle from his throat. "I can't believe you caved."

"I'm sure you'll treasure the memory," I grumbled at his gloating, throwing a second punch.

Soul grabbed my wrist as it connected with his shoulder, changing its momentum to keep going and pulling me close in the process. "I will, forever."

"Ridiculous." I turned my head away and his lips met my cheek, another laugh breaking against it.

"If it makes you feel better, I will freely admit that I'm horny." His lips started the slow crawl from my cheek to my neck, his hand coming to the other side of my neck to force me closer.

"And how is that supposed to make me feel better?" I wasn't at all concerned with the word anymore, especially as a few of his kisses turned to nips and the hand from my cheek started to drift down, fingers starting to roll over my breast barely hidden by the thin fabric of my dress.

"Because at least we're both suffering together," he sighed hotly against my neck before withdrawing, dropping his just journeying hand back into his lap. "Let's go back to Mom's. At least tomorrow night-"

"Tomorrow night?" I couldn't stop the disappointed huff, especially as he left my chest burning from his touch. "Soul!"

Soul was leaning back in the seat and throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I get it, but it's my mom's house, Maka, I told you. She's the next room over."

"No." I flexed my hand into the steering wheel before letting one hurriedly fall to the ignition.

"No?"

"I can be quiet if you can be quiet." I was relieved by the way my mind could focus solely on the movement of the car, the slow crawl through the garage, so I didn't have to concentrate too hard on my own words.

"Sex isn't quiet," Soul's voice definitely raised on octave with a cute little tremble. For a boy who just coaxed me into saying horny, he sure lost his nerve quickly.

"The other stuff can be," I corrected, trying to keep my mind on the explanatory track. "I mean, I've never heard you, and I have to assume you've masturbated."

"Maybe I do that when you're not home," Soul squeaked.

I was glad for the pause at the stop sign leaving the garage so I could offer him an eye roll. "Have you heard me?"

"No!" It was another sharp note before his eyebrows furrowed. "You mean, you - while I was _home_? With me in the other room?"

I tried to concentrate on the road but found myself severely missing the full view of the panic on his face, only getting a little of the redness and flustering out of the corner of my eye. "Right across the hall, and don't lie to me and say you've never, Soul Evans."

"I…" He ran a hand through his hair before giving up with a groan, "Yeah. Right across the hall."

"OK. We're not drunk. I love you. We're going to be quiet." I lifted a finger from the steering wheel for each one before snapping them back. He didn't offer any argument, simply sitting next to me in a kind of daze, pondering my order from the passenger side. I found myself clearly in a rush, trying to keep the courage I'd mustered to actually put a plan in place to jump one of those final hurdles.

After parking the car, the walk into the house was eerily similar to that first night, me urging him forward as if this wasn't his house and he needed the leading. I had still half-expected Regina to be up, waiting again for some kind of play-by-play but the house was dark and quiet. I thought for sure he was going to put his foot down as soon as his bedroom door shut, offering a different deal, but instead, his hands slipped over my hips, pulling me back against him. One slid up, clutching my breast through the fabric while the other dropped to my thigh, letting my dress gather at his wrist until his hand was flush against my stomach. "Soul!"

"You said quiet," he hissed against my ear before his lips pressed against my neck.

I swallowed the next sound I wanted to make, instead surrendering to him and letting his hands take control as I let out a few shaky exhales. This wasn't a slow exploration but an explosion of his need, the hand on my stomach sliding between my legs, pressing the fabric of my panties just enough that my knees tremble. He continued that motion a few times, forcing me to bite my lip to hold back a moan. Maybe, _no, definitely, stop lying, Maka Albarn_, this was completely different from being alone.

There had been nights after agonizing stays on the couch with him where he'd breathed too close to my ear or his hand had maybe touched bare skin a little too long that I had, well, done the only natural thing there was to do to relieve that frustration. And all I had ever had to smother were those panting breaths, a little squeal of air as my hips locked. Except these were his hands touching me now, definitely without the automatic instruction of my brain, that almost point-A to point-B mentality that one can fall into when experiencing pleasure on your own. By yourself, the journey is rarely the interesting part, just the big bang at the end, but Soul was making all of it feel so damn necessary.

"The bed," I whispered as my legs were honestly turning to jelly and I was sure I didn't want him bothering to lose a hand to hold my weight. Both of those hands had to continue or I would melodramatically die.

"Take everything off." There didn't feel like an end to the shock of that statement. Soul never ordered, suggested firmly sometimes, sure, but straight orders weren't in his vocabulary but here it was. Not to mention the hoarse quality of his voice, the strain like he was barely keeping himself together at the seams. I remembered questioning if he ever looked at me, even thought of me that way, but the complete abject desire that was coming off of him in waves now made me feel like a complete idiot. He'd locked this up tight, but I should have known.

He released me temporarily and I had planned a little playful '_you, too'_ when I turned around but he was already beating me to it, practically ripping through the buttons of his shirt. I threw my dress over my head and ditched my underwear and bra, winning the race and getting to the bed first. My courage started its unfortunate fizzle there as I found myself still pressing my knees together. We'd done a lot of exploring over the past few nights, but bottoms had always remained intact. I mean, were there preferences in that sort of thing? Was he going to look at it and think '_huh, that's weird'_ or, even worse, '_eh, I've seen better'_?

My thoughts only stopped racing when I heard the huff of his breath and finally focused on him, finding his thumbs hitched into the waistband of his boxers. "Get out of your head, Maka."

"What?" I knew exactly what he meant but I couldn't help being flustered, my automatic reaction to deflect and hope that it would buy me enough time to make some excuse.

"Right now, you've got those deer in the headlight eyes." He huffed out a breath again and instead of pulling down, he readjusted the band upward a little. "Do you want to stop?"

"No!"

"Sh." The finger he put to his lips was almost comical but the next part squashed my laugh as his hands came back to his boxers and dropped them down his legs. That certainly wasn't a '_huh, that's weird'_ or '_eh, I've seen better'_ experience and as he crawled onto the bed, I found that his nakedness wasn't even necessarily my first concern, just all the obvious thoughts that were dancing across those beautiful red eyes locked on mine. "Never thought I'd have a girl naked in this bed, let alone Maka Albarn." He was slow to lower himself on top of me even with that amused smirk, eyes continuing to hold mine in an effort to see any change.

I loved the feeling of his weight on top of me and the way his skin was always on fire, instantly bringing warmth and relaxation as I nestled underneath him. It was that safety, that pressing that brought the words out of my mouth, "I'm not exactly sure you're going to like that nakedness."

"Well, I didn't get a great view before we got like this," he murmured as his eyes did the regular rotation of furrowed to forced straight every time he was about to correct me. "But I told you, I got that glimpse before and I've been hungry for it ever since. You're all I want." Soul didn't let me argue, not that I had much prepared at that moment, let alone reply since his lips came crashing into mine. This was a dangerous position because as I wrapped my legs around him all it would take was one well-placed thrust. I could feel him hesitating, the usual way he would grind against me with pants on completely thrown out the window as his erection was simply resting on me, tempting to split my lower lips. "Fuck," he murmured. "Don't, Maka, just-"

I didn't listen, moving my hips to rub the side of him against me. He let out a sharp breath against my lips but he didn't deny himself, mimicking my motion as a muted growl rumbled in his throat. This was getting out of hand, my promise of _the other stuff_ almost dissolving as he continued to rub against me. "Roll on your back," I whispered as I broke our searching kiss with a hand to his cheek.

He let out a breathless laugh, "Can I bring you with me?"

"No, just go," I patted at his shoulder. Rolling off me felt like a jolt back to reality, not just because of the cool air that could now hit my front without his space-heater-like body but also because of this strange, sudden feeling of loss as if he wasn't coming back. That quickened my movement, getting me up on my knees and planting my hands right above his shoulders. It wasn't anywhere near close enough, especially after the perfect way he could sink me into the bed, but I wanted to at least get a few more kisses in. As I tangled my tongue with his, Soul's hands got to work, one sinking into my hair while the other clutched at my breast, not exactly a soft motion but callused hands kneading at me until he finished with a tentative pinch to my nipple. The moan I tried to hold back broke our kiss, leaving me staring at his smirk.

"Sh," he snorted a laugh before tweaking at my nipple again.

I bit my lip, holding it back and allowing only a shot of air from my nose. After that wave subsided, I patted his chest, "See if you can take your own advice." I leaned back on my knees, watching his hands try to come with me and snatch me back to him.

"Huh?" His hands were grasping at my hips but I didn't give in, just pivoting so my face could turn to the other half of him as I ran my fingers down his thigh. "Oh," it was a small quivering sound from his throat as the goosebumps raised on his legs. He'd only been able to keep one hand on me after the move and he let it slide from my hip to my butt, squeezing in anticipation.

Obviously, I'd never done this before. I didn't go on dates, mostly because of Spirit, but more so because of the obnoxious amount of pining I did for my weapon, so hooking up really hadn't been on the table either. Not to mention, up until this point, imagining myself having the trust to get naked with someone other than Soul seemed impossible. All I had to go on was instinct and what I'd seen in one or two pornos (yes, girls can watch porn, just usually more tasteful than a pizza in exchange for a blowjob). I grabbed him at the base of his shaft, hearing him let out a long sigh from the contact alone.

I parted my lips and let my tongue roll along his head, getting no sound but another clutch at my ass. After a few tempting flicks, I took as much of him as my mouth could manage, feeling the pressure at the back of my throat that threatened my gag reflex. He was definitely more than a mouthful so I tried to let my hand make up for what my mouth had missed. I kept that pattern, my lips gliding from tip to as much as I could take, the grip of my fingers trailing behind. I must have been doing it right, or right enough because I could hear him struggling to keep with his admonishment, only allowing himself sharp huffs of air as he continued to clutch at the skin in his grip.

"Fuck, Maka, I'm gonna…"

I was thankful for the warning, especially with the horror stories of cum shooting out of your nose with a mistimed suck. I was halfway through another stroke when his legs stiffened, an airy groan barely leaving his lips as my mouth filled with cum. It wasn't entirely my favorite flavor, that was for sure, but the way he had to pant afterward, the last desperate squeeze to my ass was more than enough to make up for it. I swallowed, trying to clear the taste from my mouth before looking up at him, finally catching the eyes that had been watching me so intently during the process.

"That was… _fuck_, Maka Albarn, where the hell did you learn to do that?" his whisper was more a wheeze followed by a delirious laugh that he muted with a hand to his mouth.

"Right here, Soul Evans," I cooed back as I slowly sat back on my heels. "It was OK?"

"_OK?_" Apparently we were through being quiet because he tossed that one back incredulously. He realized his mistake, clapping that hand back over his mouth for a second to get his volume in check. "I don't know how I'm going to match it, Maka. Seriously. I've never, and you're the first, you know…" The words trailed off with a huff of air from his mouth.

"I'll show you," I shrugged before easing myself on the bed next to him.

He quickly rolled towards me as he brought his hand to my cheek, turning my face towards him. "Always the know-it-all."

"About my body, sure," I smirked. "Now I think you should at least have an idea where your hand could go?"

He blew air out his nose, "Ouch. Inexperienced but not _stupid_."

"Just like when we first met," I nipped at his lips.

He lingered in the kiss for a moment before whispering, "Never thought you'd teach me this many new tricks."

"This one might be one of the most important." His hand had been slowly inching down my stomach, just now reaching where my panties would have been. "Just start slow, soft, but build up."

"Warm-ups then the real thing?" He moved his head back far enough to watch the slow crawl of his fingertips as they disappeared in a smooth glide between my legs. "You feel pretty warmed up," he wheezed.

I wanted something cool to say here, maybe even sultry but the feeling of his fingers rubbing up against my clit made any amount of thought impossible.

"Maka?" He turned his eyes back to me, having probably expected my sweet comeback.

"Keep going," I managed to breathe out.

I was thankful that his only reply was a smirk that quickly disappeared as he pressed his lips back to mine, his tongue instantly slipping into my mouth. My request didn't require repeating, his fingers starting off slow circular revolutions, each one twisting that knot tighter in my gut, that ache just wishing for release. All I could do was run my fingers through his hair, my other hand's only purpose to clutch into the sheets in anticipation.

I broke the kiss out of necessity, needing more air than I was getting. "Put your fingers inside me," it took every last bit of self-control not to groan that out.

"Fingers?" he murmured with a healthy amount of skepticism.

"Two, then three," I could almost produce a laugh but he cut me off with my request, plunging two fingers inside me. I guess he had some instinct for it too because he rubbed them forward purposefully, not just clumsily jamming them in but stroking at me, and I slid my legs up by bending my knees, helping the thrust of my hips to meet him. The third stroke brought the third finger, just enough to bring a moan I tried to catch in my throat. "Now up and down, firm."

"It feels good?" Even with the haziness in my brain created by the build-up, my heart took a solid moment to melt, that adorable mixture of concern and nervousness on his face adding a flutter to my already palpitating heart.

"Perfect," was the most I could offer back but it was enough for him and he was able to relax into a soft smile.

He glanced back to his work and then to me, locking eyes as I wasn't exactly capable of that deep kind of kissing we'd started off with. Soul pecked softly at my lips, letting me struggle against producing the noises my body so desperately wanted to make. Even he didn't seem able to focus on my lips, his eyes so intently staring at my face. I was slow to realize, especially as I was teetering ever closer to the edge, but it was that same look that he made when at the piano. It was the _Soul-at-work_ stare, the one that he reserved for piano pieces or other tasks he wanted to be done perfectly, and right now that task was me, my pleasure.

When that clicked in my head it was the last little bit necessary to push me over, forcing me to bite into my lip to stop the moan that wanted to crash from behind my teeth. Soul helped, pressing his lips over my clenched ones, muting the noise that did leak through. My quivering legs slid back down on the bed, his fingers finally stopping their movement. My lip felt puffy when I finally let it go, adding an extra pout as I sucked in air. "You're a quick learner," I whispered as the tingling was barely abating. I'd never felt like this after, not once in a trance from my own workings.

"When you're the teacher, yeah," he chuckled as he leaned back on his elbow, letting me see the entirety of his growing smirk. "You were barely quiet."

"But I managed," I shrugged. "It's hard to stay quiet when it's the best orgasm of your life."

Soul whistled softly, "Stop, you'll give me an ego."

"Maybe you deserve one every now and then." I ran my fingers through his hair, that pleased glow coming to his eyes as they went half-lidded. "Soul, everything about tonight was perfect."

"I tried, Maka." His fingers lingered up my stomach to my sternum, tapping softly there. "I was serious. I'm going to make it different and I'm going to give you what you deserve."

I let out a short laugh, "Something tells me that promise is going to be pretty easy for you to keep."

"Yeah, now it's easy." He leaned in, stealing another kiss before sighing softly. "What made you do it, Maka? Because I can't imagine when I was ever going to have the guts to do this, but you… you just kept pushing us forward even without my help."

"I'm the courageous one, remember?" I murmured but quickly shook my head at myself. "But really, I was scared the whole way, scared you'd really push me away once you knew that I was just dying for you to know how much I loved you." I moved my hand to his arm, running it up and down the bare skin, memorizing yet another new feeling. "But you let me come with you in the first place, so you did your own pushing. Maybe not me, but yourself."

Soul snorted a laugh, "At that point, I couldn't imagine sleeping without you, so you had to come. Even if back then it was just sleeping."

"I think I like the current upgrade," I chimed before taking a second to nibble at my lip, contemplating my next line. "And I… well, that was just a start, right?"

"Right," he answered back almost too quickly, making him laugh at his own desperation. "Sorry, just when we started tonight… damn it, Maka, I almost _begged_-"

"I know," my laugh matched his. "And I don't think I would have had a problem letting you, except I'm not too sure either of us has condoms."

"Oh, shit," he grumbled. "Guess that's something we're going to have to get."

"I actually, well," I stumbled over this part, feeling strange being embarrassed at this but not my naked body underneath his. "I have some at the apartment."

"Since when?" he laughed.

"Well…" I let my eyes wander away from him. "Since you've been sleeping in my bed I've bought them."

I could see the calculations running on his face, feeding his smirk. "You mean since the nightmares started?"

"Yes," I sighed. "I didn't think-"

"Maka Albarn, were you planning on taking advantage of me?" The feigned innocence in his voice made me want to chop him. "I was upset, vulnerable, I-"

I pressed my fingers to his lips just to stop the ridiculous tone. "Some nights I thought you'd kiss me, _hoped_ you'd kiss me and I wanted to be ready for whatever else happened after that."

He grabbed at my wrist, pulling the fingers from his lips. "Every night I wanted to kiss you, just didn't have the guts. But now… Maka, that's going to happen. Every night. As much as I can give you."

"Every night?" I let out a soft laugh that he caught with his lips, busying them until I could get the rest out. "I'll be waiting."


End file.
